A Silver Lining
by GravityDefier7827
Summary: "Why don't you want people to call you Robin?" "It's a long story." "No one's blowing up the city tonight, I have time." John/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Just a short story about John and my character, Carrie. Let me know what you think!_

* * *

"John! No, s-stop! John stop, John! Seriously! Get off!"

Her smirked from above her, but didn't slow his hands from roaming her sides. Carrie was squirming underneath him, not able to move because of his knees on either side of her hips. He was 27 years old, and he was _tickling _her for Christ's sake.

Laughing he asked, "Are you done criticizing me?"

"Yes-yes!"

John stopped and bent down to kiss her forehead, feeling her labored breath hot on his neck. He pulled her up with him as they sat on the couch. Reaching over to grab her abandoned take-out carton, she said, "That was mean."

He grabbed his own, "I was a police officer, I wasn't trained to be nice."

"Even to the person that you come home to?"

"Hey, you could be some hidden criminal, just waiting for your chance to kidnap and torture me," he said before taking a bite of orange chicken.

Carrie lifted a corner of her mouth and tried her best to look seductive, "Would you like me to? I'll do it."

"I'd put up a fight."

"I think I could handle it."

John shook his head and looked down at his food, picking at the assortment with his chopsticks. She occupied herself by looking at him, studying him. He was getting stronger, that was physically obvious. The muscles on his chest and arms were tighter against his shirt and his back was rock solid underneath her hands. The months hardcore training really did pay off.

Thinking of his training made her thoughts turn to Bruce Wayne and the Batcave. With much argument and hesitance from John, he had told her the truth about Bruce and how he had left the cave and all equipment to him. Well, to Robin.

That sparked a question, one that had never been explained to her. "John?"

He looked up at her, "Yeah?"

Carrie thought for a second, trying to word the question in her mind correctly. "Bruce left you his cave under the name Robin, so he must have been trying to get a point across, right?"

At the mention of either Bruce or his legal name, his eyes hardened in the slightest. He shrugged and said, "I don't know. Maybe."

She continued, "But you still want everyone, including the people who know, to call you John."

"That is my name."

Exhaling from her nose, Carrie finally blurted out her question, "Why don't you want people to call you Robin?"

John bit the inside of his cheek. "I told you."

"You told me that Robin wasn't professional enough for your job. Things are different now, things changed. Is it because you're...ashamed of it? You shouldn't be."

"I'm not ashamed of my name, Carrie."

"Then why don't you like it?"

He let out a sigh and finally looked at her, a tired expression newly formed on his face. "It's a long story."

She smiled softly at him, "No one's blowing up the city tonight. I have time."

The memory of the bomb, Bane, Batman, and that fateful day was seared into both of their minds. Speaking of it made flashbacks reappear behind their eyes, captivating them for a few moments. John recovered first, speaking to Carrie before she could get lost in them.

"I'll make it short for you."

She looked up at him again, her mind and eyes back to the present. She asked, "Do you have other plans for tonight that you'd like to get to?"

John laughed at her again, but quieted moments later. There was a length of silence before he spoke again. "My dad called me Robin."

Carrie's eyes grew wide at the statement, but she stayed silent. He said, "He was the one who named me that, it was my mom who named me John; she used to say that it sounded more sophisticated, more likable. But she wanted to make him happy and so she agreed to name me Robin. Even though she always called me John."

"When I was younger, I really like the name Robin. It made me unique, you know? Whenever he called me that I felt special." He looked down at his carton again, not wanted to look at her, After he died, I just, I wanted to get rid of everything that reminded me of him. So I told people to start calling me John, and Robin became a thing of the past."

Carrie waited a moment and then placed a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently. "Thank you," she said softly.

He raised his head and looked at her, lifting the corners of his mouth. "You were bound to find out eventually."

"I knew that these past two years weren't for nothing."

"Being with me isn't that bad," he said with a playfully stern look on his face, the conversation that they just had now erased from his mind.

"Well...there are certain perks..."

John took both of their almost empty cartoons of Chinese food and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He moved his body and leaned her back into the cushions, pinning her against the pillows like earlier.

"And those would be?"

She bit her lip, "I get free food."

His eyes shifted to hers, his expression unamused, which only made her smile grow wider. She laughed before she tugged on his neck and pulled him into a kiss. John sighed into it, but eventually did respond and pressed himself against her even more.

She broke the kiss quickly and sat up, taking his hand in hers. She locked eyes with him and said, "Now you have to come with me." Her voice was thick, and very, _very _tempting.

"And why's that?" he whispered in her ear.

"I wasn't kidding about torturing you."

Smirking, she stood up and led him to their bedroom, the expression on his face lustful, both of them not caring about the food left on the table. John closed the door behind them, and it wasn't opened until the next afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

_Now a multi-chapter fic. This has more background to Carrie's character. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

**Two Years Ago**

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, damm-"

"Shh, Carrie! Do you want to wake up the kids?"

"Brenda, I honestly don't care right now. I need some paperwork from a file and I can't because the damn door won't unlock!"

Brenda, a shorter and older co-worker of Carrie's, stared up at her with a look that said _'Are you really that dumb?' _And she said, "Maybe if you turn the key the right way the door would unlock." It sounded as if she was speaking to a child.

Carrie looked down at the key in her hand and turned it the other way. Much to her embarrassment, the door gave a satisfying _click _as it opened. She looked at Brenda and sighed, "Okay, fine, I'm sorry. But you know how frazzled-"

Brenda held up a hand, stopping her, "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry about it."

Crossing the threshold, Carrie explained, "Thanks. This family is driving me crazy and, and I can't mess this one up, I can't make any mistakes. If even the tiniest thing is wrong with the documents the parents will throw a fit and then everything will go to hell."

"When are they coming?"

"Next Thursday. So I have to get all the paperwork done today and then on Monday I'll start to get Amy ready."

The older woman patted her back, "It's all going to be fine. You're gonna be fine."

Carrie grabbed the file she needed and began to head back into their office, "I appreciate you're belief in me, but it does nothing for my stress."

Brenda sat down in the desk across from hers. Kicking her legs up and grabbing her laptop, she said, "Loosen up, sweetie. Life isn't meant to be taken this seriously."

Not looking up from the paper in front of her, Carrie responded with, "Yeah? Well, if I didn't take things seriously I wouldn't be where I'm at today." The tone of her voice was hard, threatening.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll let you work."

"Thank you, Brenda."

"But if you have panic attack, don't expect me to help you."

"Love you too."

With that, both of the women began to start on their days work. Brenda had bills to pay and errands to run for the home and Carrie had her paperwork for the litte girl that was being adopted. There were more people that worked for The Boys and Girls of Gotham, a small but very important orphanage, but they were always the earliest to show up. 6am was apparently too early for some people...

Carrie had been working for the orphanage for about a year. Fresh out of Gotham University with a degree in psychology, she tried, unsuccessfully, looking for a notable job. After 4 months of endless searching, she gave up and lived the next 6 months of her life partying and living off her parents. It was fun, at the time, but she received a reality check when the car she was in decided that it would park itself into a tree. No one was killed, but they all came out with scars. That sobered her up just fine.

She spent a month recovering from the accident and lessening her dependence on alcohol. It wasn't that she was addicted to it, but she felt like she had to clean up her act if she ever wanted to get anywhere. And that month she got the chance to. There was an orphanage looking to hire an aid and social worker. Needless to say, she didn't let the opportunity go to waste.

And here she was, one year later, still loving every minute of her job. Even when the kids screamed at her, cried in the corner, and gave her the silent treatment, this is what she wanted to do, this is where she wanted to be.

Brenda and Carrie worked silently for an hour before the others started to show up. First was Natalie, a plump woman with bleach blonde hair, next Kate, the sweetest southern bell in all of Gotham, Dave, the man in charge of the orphanage, and finally Dominic, a quiet but persistent young man. There were others, but they either worked in fancy buildings or were too important to be seen in such an..._un_important place, according to them.

"Ladies," Dave greeted the two women in their desks.

Carrie nodded, but didn't look up from her work. Brenda said, "Don't bother her, if you try to pry her away from the desk she'll scratch your eyes out."

Dominic laughed from his desk, as did Kate. Natalie had left the room to wake up some of the children. Dave squeezed her shoulder, "That may be true, but she's the only one who gets any work done around here."

"Not true," Brenda defended.

The boss let out a strained laugh, but then left the office where the others all worked to go to his private one. When she heard his door click shut, Kate quietly said, "Did you see his face?"

Dominic told her, "We're not all sleeping with him, Kate. We don't know how to 'read' him as you do."

She turned bright red at his comment, but chose to continue with her original statement, "He's worried."

"About what?" Brenda asked.

"On the news last night there was somethin' about a body bein' found in the subway tunnel. It was a young man, around 17 years old."

Carrie looked up from her paper, wanting to hear more, "Did they identify him?"

"No...but he looked awfully familiar."

Dominic asked, "Does Dave think that he stayed here?"

Kate looked at the floor, "Yeah. He's almost positive that is was Ken Franklin. He was adopted by a family a couple of years ago."

"Wait," Carrie interrupted, "Ken Franklin...Marissa and Tommy's older brother?"

"That's the one."

"Why didn't they take all three kids?"

"The family already had four foster kids and only wanted one more. They didn't want to break up the twins."

"How about not wanting to break up the family?" Carrie spit out with disgust in her voice.

Brenda asked something new, "Do the twins know?"

Kate shook her head, "Dave doesn't want them to until the police contact us."

Marissa and Tommy Franklin were already at the orphanage when Carrie started to work. Brenda had told her that they, along with an older brother, lost both their parents to a car crash when they were 6 years old, the brother was 13. Now they had to be told that they lost their brother, too.

"Did he ever visit?" Carrie asked.

Brenda said, "Four times the first two years he was gone. After that...he just disappeared."

They stayed silent after that. When Natalie returned saying that all of the 17 children were up she, along with Kate and Dominic, went to assist them with breakfast. It was 7:45 when Dave exited his office, his face now clearly marked with sadness.

"I just saw the police car from the window...and I'm assuming you both know by now."

Both of the women nodded. He said, "Carrie, you're gonna come with me to speak with the officers. You're the best with the legal-"

Carrie cut him off, "I know." All of the workers did. Out of all the employees, she was the most advanced and comfortable with the legal work. The others were more fit to be caring for the children, something that Carrie was still getting used to.

She stood up from her desk and followed Dave down the hall and stairs. Her work for Amy was important, but the priority right now was Ken Franklin.

The doorbell rang when the two had reached the end of the stairs. Dave quickened his pace, and once at the door he took a deep breath, masking much of his pained expression. He opened the door.

There were two officers. One was aged; receding hairline, glasses, and wrinkles on his face. The other was young; thick, dark hair with matching eyes. This officer also had lines on his face, aging him well past his years, but his were obviously caused by years of stress and worry. Carrie wondered briefly for a moment if she also looked aged by the stress she put herself under. Probably not...she wasn't _that _uptight.

"Can I help you, officers?" Dave asked politely.

"Yes," the older one spoke, "I'm Officer Collins and this is Officer Blake. May we step inside?"

Dave nodded and opened the door wider to let the two men in. Collins spoke again, "Is there someplace we can speak more privately in? I'm afraid we have some bad news."

* * *

_Thoughts? More of Blake to come._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the feedback! I know it's not the best story and not extremely well written, but I appreciate that you guys are liking it._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy._

* * *

"So it was him," Dave said quietly from his desk.

"Yes." Collins sounded sympathetic, but it was rather flat.

"Do you know the cause of death?"

"Gunshot wound to the chest. Most likely a homicide. We're looking for witnesses now."  
Collins looked over to Blake, who nodded in approval. The young officer was standing quietly in the back of the room. Carrie looked over at him for a second and she noticed that his eyes held _honest _sympathy, not like the older man. She turned away and asked, "Do his foster parents know?"

"Yeah. We've got a few people talking to them now."

"I'm sorry, but then why are you two here in the first place? He was here four years ago, he doesn't live here anymore. The most accurate information about him would come from his current family." Carrie questioned the older man rudely, not at all the way she was suppose to treat an officer.

"Carrie," Dave sternly warned her.

"No, no," Collins reassured him, "It's alright. Ms. Bryan, we're just looking some information about his past. Possibly some old records or files which could then lead us to understand why this happened to him."

"We would only have past medical files. Seeing that you're both officers it would be quite simple to look up if he had any criminal records if that's what you're looking for," she told him.

Dave stood up from his desk with a look of frustration and anger. He said, "Enough, Carrie. I think you should leave."

Carrie's eyes shifted from her boss and the officer in front of her. She nodded at Dave and said to Collins, "Fine. If you need any documents I'm sure that there are others here who would be happy to help."

She turned around and quickly left Dave's office, not sparing the young officer in the corner a second glance. Her footsteps echoed down the long hallway as she hastily walked towards the kitchen. It was 8 o'clock in the_ morning _and she wanted a drink. For the past year it hadn't been often that she desperately wanted a drink-no matter what the time-but right now, she really, really, _really _wanted one. Entering the kitchen, it finally dawned on her that this was an orphanage. One with young children...there obviously wasn't a drop of alcohol in the building.

She'd have to make do with coffee, then. At least until 6 o'clock.

The brown liquid was brewing in the maker when she heard the door open. Very slowly, too. Like the intruder was being polite. Carrie moved her head back to the door and saw the officer, the young one. Blake.

She pursed her lips before asking, "Are you here to make me apologize?"

Blake shook his head, "No," his voice was deep, and also soothing. It surprised her. "I actually came to apologize."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. I just, I want to apologize for the way Collins acted."

She sighed, "He acted like a cop. He was doing his job."

"That doesn't mean that he should have to lie about being sorry," he sounded truly sympathetic, like his eyes earlier.

Carrie turned back to her coffee, "Well, thank you for clearing that up, but it wasn't necessary."

Many moments passed before he said anything else to her. "He doesn't understand this place," Blake told her slowly.

She faced him again, not being able to help herself from being intrigued by his statement. "And what would this place be?"

"A home. A home fore kids that have no where else to go."

"But _you _understand?"

"I should. I used to live in one."

They stared at each other, light eyes versus dark ones. She looked away first and muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

He took a few steps closer to Carrie, now only a few feet from her. She noticed that he was tall, not extremely, but enough that he had 5 inches on her. She didn't look back at him while he said, "Listen, I know that you don't like Collins, you don't like me, and you don't like cops. I'm not sure why, but you do. Just know that we're not all the same. We're not all what you make us out to be."

Blake backed away almost as quickly as he had come towards her, realizing he had invaded her space. From the corner of hers, she could see his eyes shift around the room once before starting for the door.

"I'm sorry about Collins," she nodded at him. "Have a good day, Ms. Bryan." He spun on his heels and left the kitchen, leaving her alone.

The second the door shut she leaned her head back and let out a frustrated breath. Great, in a matter of 20 minutes she managed to piss off her boss _and_ two cops. Well, her boss was angry with her, the officers were just annoyed. The smell of coffee burned her senses, reminding her of the drink. 6 o'clock couldn't come fast enough...just another 10 hours.

Carrie was pouring the coffee when the door opened again. Couldn't she be along for 5 minutes? Was that too much to ask for? She expected a male voice to call out to her, and it surprised her when it turned out to be a female's. Brenda's.

"Now what the heck was that all about?" she asked.

"What was what about?"

"Don't act dumb. I have ears like a hawk, remember? Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm not as sharp as I used to be," Brenda told her.

She sighed, "It was nothing. I...said a few things that rubbed Dave the wrong way. He kicked me out and one of the officers followed me."

"What did you say?"

"What was on my mind. I don't like cops, you know that."

Brenda asked, "Did one of them say something bad?"

"No," she took a sip of the burning liquid, "He just didn't mean what he said."

"And then you lost it."

Carrie looked at the older women and led her towards the door. "Not as much as you think I did. It wasn't that bad."

They were walking down the hallway when she responded, "But it could've been better."

As they walked past Dave's office, though the door was closed, Carrie could hear the muffled voices of the three men inside. She said quietly, "Just drop it. Everything will be fine in a couple of hours."

Brenda walked into their office and sat down at her desk. "Whatever you say. Just know that I'm not doing any of that legal crap. It's much too complicated for my old mind."

"I thought you said that you're still sharp."

"Did I say that? Must've forgotten..."

Carrie sat down too and started to look at her forgotten paper. Five minutes passed and Dave's office was still closed. Brenda saw her eyes glance at the door and said, "How many cops were there?"

"Two."

"And according to you, both of them were," she quieted, "asses?"

Carrie chuckled, "The older one was. Well, I thought he was."

"And the younger one?"

"Not as much. He was the one who followed me. He's...okay. Tried to explain to me that not all cops are the same."

"And he's right, you know."

She shifted her attention back to the paperwork. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"You just did. Around...8 minutes ago."

Carrie didn't respond. She only focused harder on the fine print. She was tired about talking about Blake and their conversation. He'd be gone in a few hours, probably less, and afterwards she'd forget all about him. She definitely would tonight at 6.

"Was he cute?"

Brenda was looking at her with a small smirk on her face, a smirk that wasn't mirrored on Carrie's. She looked at her co-worked with a death glare.

Brenda widened her smirk and said, "He was. That look says it all."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed. I'd love to hear what you think._


	4. Chapter 4

_Again...thanks for all the feedback! I love hearing that you all are enjoying. I've realized that I might not be getting all of the information right about orphanges and in this chapter, police stations/officers...so bear with me please!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight Universe_

* * *

It was 6:30 when Carrie- _finally- _fell through the door to her apartment. The officers had left without saying a word to her, and from there her day didn't get any better. She tried playing with some of the younger kids, but they began to cry once she showed them how to properly play with the toys. That probably wasn't the smartest idea. At lunchtime, she spilled her coke on not only her pants, but also her desk, staining multiple files and papers. Thank God all the kids were in the dining room and not able to hear what she had to say about that little accident. At 5:54 she was glaring at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes.

"Staring at the clock won't make it go any faster," Dominic had told her from his desk.

They were the only two left from the morning shift. He should have been off at 3, but had stayed behind to finish up some paperwork. She, unlike the others, actually worked a twelve hour day. She wasn't forced too, but because she practically had no life outside of her job she wanted to work extra. Carrie liked to say that she was a dedicated worker, but Brenda took a liking to calling her a full blown workaholic.

Because of her already horrible mood, she didn't respond to Dominic. When the clock struck 6, all she had called out was a relieved, "Bye," but that was it. She was out the front door before he could respond.

Driving home she had, of course, hit major traffic. And because of the traffic, she was honked at, yelled at, and tailgated. When she pulled into the parking lot of her hotel she couldn't help but let out a loud sigh of relief. _Home. _

The elevator was out of order, it had been for quite some time, and so climbing the three flights of stairs were treacherous. Every steps felt heavier than the rest, and it seemed like the staircase would never end. Like it just kept winding and winding and winding...

And so when she stumbled through the threshold of her apartment, she couldn't hold back another sigh of relief. She threw her purse onto the counter, kicked off her shoes, and headed straight for the kitchen.

Carrie grabbed the first bottle of wine that her hand connected with. She popped off the cork and poured herself a glass quickly. When it was filled, she immediately lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, feeling the sweet liquid trickle down her throat. The taught muscles in her back quickly relaxed as the wine made its way into her system. She took another big drink before heading over to her CD collection. It was time to relax.

It was 8 o'clock. She was halfway through her third glass with her legs kicked up on the coffee table and a Frank Sinatra recording playing softly in the background when the phone rang. It's annoying ring blasted its way through her calm environment, making her anger towards the person calling grow even though she had no idea who it was.

She slowly brought the phone to her ear and said, "Hello?"

"Carrie?" It was Andrew, a nervous man who worked the evening shift until 10.

"Yeah, Andrew. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's good. The kinds are just winding down and playing downstairs."

"Good," she paused, "did you...need anything?" He better. If not, he better get the hell off the phone and leave her to Sinatra.

"Yeah, um...I'm really sorry if I'm interrupting something, but I need you to come down."

"What?"

"Well, not here. The police station down town, on 33rd street."

"I know where it is, Andrew. But why do I need to go there?"

"Some officer called. Said that he needed some one to help him with some files he took...wait...you probably don't even know what happened! Well, Ken Fra-"

"I know. I heard this morning."

The grief was very evident in his voice. "Isn't it just tragic? He was only 17...I mean, it's just so hard to imagine..."

Carrie got up and placed her glass on the counter. "Listen, Andrew, I'm really sorry, but the officer. He said that he needed some one?" She knew that she was forcing him off of a touchy subject, but she really wanted to know why her evening was being interrupted.

He sniffled quietly and said, "Yes, yes. Sorry. Yes, the officer called around five minutes ago and asked if one of us could come down to the station and help him through a couple things."

"And so you called me."

"Yeah...listen, Carrie. I know you probably don't want to go down, but you're the best with the files. You know how to read them and work with them and do them and...you know you're the best. Can you please just head on down there? He said that it wouldn't take that long."

She exhaled loudly, making it clear that she really did _not _want to go. She said, "Is there any choice?"

He paused, "No. I...I told him that you'd be there within a half hour."

If there would have been a smile on her face, it would have instantly dropped from his words. "Andrew..." she whined.

"I'm sorry! I won't take long, I promise."

"Fine. Yeah, yeah, fine. I'll go." Not that she had any choice in the matter.

"Thank you!"

"Yeah, okay. Bye." She hung up before he could respond.

Well...this just ruined her night.

* * *

Carrie was walking towards the wide, double-doors of the Gotham Police Station. She was dressed in what she had on earlier, and did nothing to enhance her appearance for the officer she was meeting. The only thing she had done was brush her hair and spray her mouth with some Listerine, trying to make the fact that she had been drinking less apparent. She was heading to a precinct, after all.

She was pulling one of the massive doors open when some one inside the building was pushing it. It quietly startled her, making her release her hand and take a big step back. The door creaked its way open, quickly revealing a tired, young face.

"Good to see you again, Ms. Bryan," Blake greeter her as he stepped outside.

She looked up at him, her eyes anything but happy to see him. "Are you sure about that?" she asked.

He didn't answer her, instead he held the door open and invited her in. "Come on in. I'm working up the stairs and to the right."

She entered the building. It was old...old and beautiful. There were solid floors with gray, ancient walls. The halls were dimly lit with soft lights, giving the station a calming and unsettling feeling. She could faintly hear the footsteps and noises that some of the others were making echoing off the walls.

Carrie turned to face him. "You were the officer that called." It wasn't a question.

He looked down, almost like he was embarrassed. "Yeah...I didn't quite know how the files were organized and what they were all for. I needed one of the workers to come down and clarify a few things. And it turned out to be you."

She looked down at the cold floor. She said, "Well then, let's not waste any time."

He nodded and motioned for her to climb the stairs. She did her best, really trying not to sway as the effects of the wine really started to kick in.

"You okay?" he asked when she stopped and placed her hand on the wall.

"I'm fine," Carrie told him coldly.

She made it up the remainder of the stairs and into his office without any other incidents. Neither one of them spoke until she saw all the coffee cups scattered around his desk.

Curiosity got the best of her as she asked, "Long night?"

"Yeah," he said while sitting in his chair, not sounding as tired as he probably felt. "Collins apparently wants me to get the full cop experience. All-nighters and all."

"He's your partner?"

"No. No, he's just working with me for awhile. Until he trusts me enough to let me work my own hours."

Her eyes scanned his office. It was pretty bare, making it seem like he just started working. And he probably did. He couldn't be more than 26 years old, even if he did have a few creases in his forehead. There was a picture of a boy with a small smile and his fishing pole, an older man's arm on his shoulder. It must have been him and his father. The only other thing on his desk was his name plate. Officer John Blake...so that was his name.

"So the files," he started, making her focus on him and not his desk, "there aren't many, but I need your help examining them. You know, medical, school, records...what I need are the files that will help explain why he was involved with people on the streets."

"That's pretty obvious, don't you think? And I told you, where you need to look are his criminal records. _And_ I'm not a professional examiner or whatever you call them, so why not just ask some one here?"

He looked up at her, "Because I need some one who understands these kids and their actions. Some one who knows this kid and his behavior."

"That's not me. You didn't meet them, but Brenda Clifford and Kate Stiles worked for the orphanage when-"

"Well right now all I have is you, and so I need you to please just try and do the best you can. Please."

She looked back at the picture on his desk, for a second the figures blurred along with everything else in her line of sight. Her eyes fluttered for a moment before returning to normal.

"You sure you're all right to be doing this?" Blake asked, his voice worried and hesitant.

She shook her head, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Let's just...let's start."

Carrie grabbed one of the chairs in the corner and dragged in to the side of his desk. He handed her a file, offering her a tight smile before diving into the paper before him. They didn't speak much, only occasionally asking questions or explaining something in a file. He never once let his eyes stray from what was before him, and she thought that she didn't either. It was only later when she realized that every few minutes she would look at the picture of the boy and man.

* * *

_Probably not the best ending...but I'd still love to hear from you all!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Considering that I've been updating this story daily and usually at the same time, I appologize that this is out later than usual. My exams had to take priority for a couple of hours! It's a little short...but enjoy all the same!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight Universe._

* * *

"There's no argument to make here, and so there's really no reason to try."

"Listen to me...I'm fine! I don't need you to-"

"How many drinks did you have?"

Carrie crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Only three."

"And according to that," Blake pointed at a thick book placed in a chair in a corner of the room, "that's enough to make your BAC level rise over the legal limit. Or at least make it unsafe for you to drive."

She looked at the clock; it read 9:26. "That was also over an hour ago. I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine, really. I've driven with much worse in my system before." Her eyes grew large at what she had just said, and to make it worse it was to a _police officer. _Maybe she had a few more drinks than she thought she had...

He sighed and looked back at her, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Listen, I'd just feeler...better, knowing that you'll be home safe and also that no one else was hurt."

She huffed and asked for the second time that night, "Is there even a choice?"

"Not in the slightest," Blake's voice was light and calm. He grabbed his keys from his desk and then started towards the door. When he didn't see her following him, he turned. "You coming?" he asked.

"Aren't we taking my car?"

"Nope. Mine."

"A cop car?"

"Yeah. Did you expect something different?"

"I guess not...why can't we take mine?" she asked.

He gave her a small smile, "I don't think it's the gentlemen thing to do to drive a woman home in her own car. Seems a little...strange, don't you think?"

"So," she said, "I'm gonna be driven home by a _cop_ in his _cop_ car. I wonder what my neighbors will think," she muttered quietly at end.

Blake nodded at her to follow him out the door. "Just think if I made you sit in the back."

She stopped in her tracks and glared at him. "You know, maybe I should just walk home. You can just keep working here."

"I was joking," he told her.

Carrie rolled her eyes and continued forward. They were both quiet as they descended the stairs and exited the building. Once outside, Blake took a left and led her back to where all of the police cars were parked. She stopped when he unlocked the car and began to climb in, her own car coming into mind.

"Wait, how will I get my car back?"

He sat down, his door still open. "Don't worry about it. Just give me your keys and some one will drop it off tomorrow."

She moved over to the passenger side and climbed into her seat. Closing the door, she asked, "And how will I get to work?"

Starting the engine, Blake said, "You know, you're much more talkative when you've had a couple of drinks. A little nicer, too."

"Just answer the question. And take a left up here."

They were now pulling out of the parking lot and into the streets of Gotham. "Can some one pick you up?"

"Maybe. If I had my car I wouldn't have to worry about it, though. At the stop light take-"

"How about you just tell me the address."

"Avery Street. Know where that is?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Also, if I had my car you wouldn't have to go out of your way to drive me home."

"I actually live a few streets down, on Tessman Avenue. And driving you home is for your safety, and also for`others who might be in your way."

"No one would be hurt! I was fine to drive, really."

Blake looked over at her for a moment, his eyes showing a hint of amusement. "Well, we'll never know, will we?"

She mumbled something incoherent while she stared out the window, letting a silence wash over the car. Well, until he broke it.

"So how long have you worked at the orphanage?"

"A year," she said.

"Oh." That was the last he, or she, said for the rest of the ride home. Carrie was, obviously, not in the mood to speak to him, and he wasn't going to try to make her. Though he didn't experience it first hand, Blake knew that she was some one who could go off at him easily. She could hold her own.

10 minutes of a slightly uncomfortable silence passed before she spoke. "It's the apartment complex on your right."

He pulled up next to the curb in front of the building. When the car came to a stop she unbuckled and threw her weight on the door, wanting nothing more but to get back home.

He watched her stumble out of the car. "You okay?"

"Fine." She stood up and brushed herself off.

"Can I have your keys?"

Carrie took a deep breath, exhaling louder than necessary. She then dug through her purse and threw a lanyard with _Gotham City Rogue's _printed out on it.

She had closed his door and began walking towards the front doors to her apartment building before he could say anything to her. Rolling down the window, he called, "Hey!"

She turned around, her eye brows raised. He said, "Thanks again, for helping out."

Carrie nodded. "I guess I should thank you for the ride home."

"It'd be nice."

"Thank you, then."

He smiled at her. "Have a nice night, Ms. Bryan."

She lifted a corner of her mouth and gave a short wave, then turning back around and entering the building. Like earlier in the evening, the stair case seemed like it would stretch on for an eternity. Her mind, though she hated to admit it, was a little fuzzy, and multiple times she had fumbled or tripped while making her ascend. Unlocking her door was another challenge. The key wouldn't stop moving enough for her to get it through the slot. After a few muttered curses and frustrated breaths, it finally opened.

Unlike this evening, she didn't go straight for the kitchen. When the door was completely shut and locked behind her, Carrie lazily made her way to her bathroom, her eyes starting to feel heavy. Her jacket was thrown into a corner along with her shoes, and she took a pony tail from her wrist and tied her hair into a knot on the nape of her neck. She splashed warm water and soap onto her facing, washing away her make-up, leaving her bare. Looking at her bathroom counter, she made the decision to skip brushing. One day never hurt anybody, right?

She walked back into the bedroom, already beginning to undo the button on her pants. She shimmied her way out of them, and her shirt and bra soon followed. Digging through her dresser, she pulled out an old shirt and quickly threw it on, not caring in the slightest that it was backwards. When she was done dressing, she didn't hesitate to throw herself on her bed, quickly climbing under the covers and burying her face into a pillow.

In moments she was asleep, not sparing a thought about the man she spent her evening with, the predicament with her car, or how she was getting to work tomorrow. For the few moments that she was awake, all her thoughts consisted of was how soft the pillow was beneath her head and how warm the covers felt around her.

And by the time she was out cold, John Blake was already back at the station, starting on his 7th coffee as his mind devoured another paper.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Like the last chapter, this is out a little late. I'd like to update quickly, but I'm never quite sure when I'll post a new chapter. Again, thanks for the reviews, favorites, and followers. You guys are great! Also, I appologize for any grammar or technical mistakes. I really just want to get this chapter out as soon as possible._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

"My God, Brenda, I told you, some one called me in and they had to give me a ride home. Can't you just drop it?"

"Not until you tell me what actuallyhappened last night! A good place to start would be telling me why you _really _don't have your car."

Carrie huffed in annoyance from the passenger side while staring out the window. She had woken up to the ringing of her cell phone at 6:30 that morning. Brenda was calling her, her voice worrisome and panic filled, asking Carrie why she wasn't at work. It had taken a few seconds, but eventually the past night's events had come swirling into her mind. After much persuasion, she had convinced Brenda to pick her up, promising an explanation of what had happened later.

"I didn't have to come and get you," Brenda told her.

"You also didn't have to call me."

"Hey, don't get mad at me for making sure that you weren't killed or something."

"You thought that I was killed because I slept in?"

"When was the last time you let yourself sleep past eight?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not the point."

"Yeah, you're right. The point is, is that something happened last night and you're keeping your mouth shut about it. And you shouldn't be."

"How much longer?" Carrie asked.

"About 5 minutes, so you better get started."

She ran her hands over her make-up free face. The morning had been rushed. She only had time to take a quick shower, throw her hair in a bun, dress, and grab a granola bar before she had to run out the door and meet Brenda downstairs. In the car, both women were, at first, quiet. But it only lasted a minute. Quickly after, Brenda started hammering her with questions of the night before, so many questions that she could barely get a word in.

"Okay," Carrie started, "after I got home I had a few glasses of wine. Around eight I got a call from Andrew saying that the police called and needed some one from the orphanage to go down to the station and help with the files. So, obviously, he wanted me to go. And so I drove down there and helped the cop-"

"Was it the one from yesterday? From the kitchen?" Brenda interrupted.

She sighed, "Yes."

Brenda sucked in a dramatic breath, and Carrie couldn't help but smile and laugh at the older woman's reaction.

"Go on, go on," Brenda encouraged.

"So I helped him-Blake-and afterward he drove me home because, according to him, I was unfit to do so."

"Did you show up drunk to a police station?'

"No! I was fine to drive. He's just...paranoid, I guess. I honestly don't remember much. I probably made a fool of myself in the car..."

Brenda laughed, "I bet you did."

Shaking her head, she said, "I don't even know how I'm getting my car back...could you drop me off at the station after work?"

Pulling into the parking complex, Brenda nodded. "Yeah, I can. How about I stay late and we can get some dinner?"

"Sure, sure..."

Both women got out of the car once Brenda had parked. They walked, making small comments along the way, down to the front doors of their work. It was quiet inside, only the occasional footsteps from one of the employees or the squeaking of a bed could be heard as they made their way upstairs and into the office. Three people from the night shift were there; Emily, a short blonde, Steve, a bigger man with a heart of gold, and Brandi, a former swimmer. They weren't always here this late into their shift, but because of Carrie, Brenda had asked them to stay.

"Long night, Carrie?" Brandi asked.

"Hm, yeah..." she looked down at the floor.

She glanced at Brenda for a second, her eyes pleading. Her co-worked seemed to take the hint.

"Okay, you guys, I think we're good here. The others should be getting here soon, and so I think you're free to go. Thanks again for staying."

The three looked at each other for a moment before starting to get up and packing away their things. Slowly, they exited the building in silence one by one, only saying quick parting words. Soon, the two women were left alone.

"Thanks," Carrie muttered.

"No problem, sweet cheeks," Brenda said while positioning her body in her normal poise: legs kicked up and chair leaned back.

Carrie took her own seat, pulling out the file she had worked on yesterday. They worked in silence for fifteen minutes before the others from the morning shift began to wander in.

It was another slow-and quiet-day. Not many incidents happened, with the adults _and _the kids. They were well behaved today, and even ate quietly. It was later in the afternoon when Carrie realized that they must have heard about Ken Franklin. Many of them were too young to remember him, but because of the twins, everyone was in a somber mood. By the time 6:00 came slowly rolling by, uneventfully, Carrie had dozed off three times, each time longer than the last.

"You ready?" Brenda asked as she walked into the room. She looked like should could fall asleep, too.

"More than anything." her words were jumbled and lazy.

It took an hour, and a drink or two, but soon the slow day was slowly forgotten.

* * *

"You sure you don't want me to take you home?" Brenda asked.

With her hand on the door handle, Carrie said, "No, no, I'm fine. I'm pretty sure I gave my keys to Blake. I'll just run inside and grab them."

"Is he even here?"

"Trust me, Brenda, the guy's even more work addicted than me. He's still here."

"Okay...call me if you need me, though."

Carrie stepped outside, "Thanks, again, Brenda."

"No problem, dear. Enjoy the weekend."

"You too." She closed the door and turned around, heading towards the two familiar large doors. As she climbed the stairs, she wondered quickly why no one stopped her from coming in. This was a police station, right? Shouldn't there be guards or something? Guess not...

She neared the young officers door, not exactly knowing how she knew this was his desk. She peaked her head in quickly, praying that she was right and that the person inside wouldn't see her. Because of her luck, of course, when she popped her head just as the person inside was walking out.

She instantly recoiled, pulling her head back and taking a step away from the door.

She gasped and muttered, "I-I'm sorry."

The person stepped out. It was Blake.

"No, you're fine." He looked up and recognition spread across his face. "Ms. Bryan. Strange seeing you back here."

"I know," she said.

"Did some one else force you here tonight?" Blake asked, a small smile on his face.

"Not tonight. But I am here to get my keys back."

His brow furrowed slightly. "I don't have your keys."

"What? Why not?"

"Last night I told you I'd drop off your car some time today."

"Why would you do that?" Her voice was getting louder with each word spoken.

"Because I told you I would. Do you not remember?" He crossed his arms over his chest, a knowing expression on his straight face.

She looked up at the ceiling, embarrassed to admit that she did, in fact, not remember. She blinked multiple times before switching the subject, "So you don't have my car?"

He shook his head. "No. It's at your apartment."

She sighed, turning her head from side to side. Of course this would happen to her. Ever since she was a young girl, luck had never been on her side. She never won any contests, never was picked from a crowd, and when she was older it seemed that cops were always watching her. At every corner there seemed to be one waiting to get her on something. Yes, the fact that she liked to go fast did make her more vulnerable to get pulled over, but still. At 24 years old, she'd already gotten seven speeding tickets.

She heard him sigh, too. The type of sigh that sounded like he was going to do something he really didn't want to do.

He looked at her and asked, "Do you need me to take you home?"

"No," she said immediately.

"How'd you get here?"

"A friend dropped me off."

"And is that person still here?"

She found that spot on the ceiling again. "No."

"So do you want to walk home?" he asked with his eye brows raised.

She responded even slower than the last time. "No..." And she didn't. The slow and lazy day from the orphanage was catching up to her, again. Unlike last night where she would have gladly walked home, tonight she didn't want to. Tonight, right now, all she wanted to do was get home.

He looked at her again, and for the first time she saw how tired he was, too. There was a faint shadow under his eyes, which were darker than she remembered. His face was tight and straight, making him seem expressionless.

He looked into his small office and then back at her. "Let me get my keys," he told her. Blake entered his office quickly. And if he wasn't as fast, he might have seen her crack a small smile.

* * *

_So...thoughts?_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey guys! So here's the next chapter. I was actually proof reading it, but the website got messed up and I had to start all over...and I got a little mad...so there might be a few mistakes in here, especially in the first part. Sorry! Anyways, this chapter is a bit wordy and has a lot of information, but it also gives more of a background to Carrie and her family. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight Universe._

* * *

"He left me on the street. He _left _me on the street! What the hell kind of cop does that?" Carrie muttered as she walked down the empty street.

The ride with Blake had gone...not as expected. It started out with a few questions asked by him and then a few by her, then a comment here and a comment there; it was the normal, awkward conversation that was slowly becoming more and more comfortable. He laughed at her a couple of times, which brought on her own smile from him being so lighthearted. He still looked tired and stressed, but he had lightened up in the car.

It was short-lived, however. Because soon after Blake had received a transmission on his radio reporting something that she didn't understand. After the call, she had asked him what was going on. All he had said back to her was that there was a burglary that he needed to respond to.

"And why is he even responding to a burglary? Isn't he a homicide cop or something?" Thank God nobody else was on the street, because if there was they might be thinking that she belonged in Arkham Asylum.

She had inquired more, but he didn't reveal anything else. All he did was turn on his sirens and gun the car. Quickly after, though, he slowed down and pulled over to the curb. Blake had looked at her and apologized, then telling her she needed to get out.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but you need to leave. I can't bring you to an active crime scene."

"Can't I just stay in the car?"

"No. Please, I need you to step out."

She had looked at him, eyes wide, for a second, not believing that he was actually forcing her to leave. When she found that he was, in fact, being serious, she said, "Fine," and opened the door.

Her anger was beginning to rise when she was starting to close the door. She probably would have slammed it, but he had stopped her with his voice.

"Carrie," he said. Her first name is what made her pause. It sounded, different coming from him. "Just, be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Then she had closed the door, not exactly slamming it, and started to walk away. In the next few seconds his car sped by her, the sound of the sirens puncturing the still night. When she was sure that he was out of sight, she threw her head back and let out a frustrated huff.

"Stupid cop," she murmured. And so her muttering began.

* * *

As much as she loved her family, she really hated family gatherings.

They were just...way to over done. All the siblings were showing off and bragging about this and that, all the ladies were fussing over the food, the men drank a beer and spoke off sports, and something always had to go wrong. Last month Carrie's young niece had fallen down the stairs, causing everyone to lose their heads.

Her two year old niece, Amy, who had a twin sister, Anne, belonged to her older sister, Camille. She was two years older and was, how her mother said it, the outgoing one. Ever since Camille was a young girl, she had always tried to outshine and outdo everyone in everything. She was a dancer, singer, volleyball star, and straight A student; the perfect child. When she was 23, Camille ran off and married her college boyfriend, Ryan, in Vegas. Nine months later they had the twins.

Then there was Carrie and her younger brother. Cameron was a late surprise to her parents, who were 39 and 41 at the time. Now, at 14 years old, the youngest of the Bryan family was an up and coming track star. Cameron, like Carrie, was on the shorter side. Currently, he was 5'5'', like her, but he had an estimated height of 5'8''. Mr. and Mrs. Bryan already had high hopes for him.

Carrie wasn't the odd one out, though. She differed slightly from her siblings, she focused more on helping others than just trying only to help herself, but she was still very much like her brother and sister. Like Camille, she was a volleyball player and had actually won a state title her junior year. Her grades weren't perfect, but she still tried her best. Like Cameron, she had a small group of friends, only letting a few people get extremely close to her.

But at every gathering that her parents held, some one always stole the spotlight. More often than not, it was Camille. And walking into her parents house, which was more on the expensive side, she could tell that her sister was at it again.

"Oh, Mom, the girls are just _amazing_. I mean they're talking more and more each day, oh, and and Amy is recovering from the fall so well. Of course I'm right next to her when she crawling up the stairs, but, like I said, she's doing wonderful."

Camille's voice rang out through the large house as Carrie quietly closed the front door, trying not to disturb the conversation. She stood on her tip-toes and saw that her mother, Johanna, and sister were sitting on the long couch in the front room, each holding a sleeping girl in their arms.

"I'm so glad, dear. I just felt awful when Amy fell. And I was a nervous wreck when you didn't call and tell me about her condition."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I was worried, too, and those first few days all I could concentrate on was how she was doing. My mind wasn't really working."

Carrie slowly walked into the living room, not saying a word until she was in Camille's line of sight.

"Oh, Carrie, hi! Here, Mom, take Anne for a second." She handed off her daughter to Johanna gently and then stood up and walked over to Carrie, giving her a big hug.

"Hi, Camille," Carrie said with little enthusiasm.

"How are you?" Camille asked while letting go and taking a step back to look at her. "You look great. Have you lost weight?"

Carrie bit the inside of her cheek before answering. "No. I'm the same as I was last time."

"You do look a bit smaller, dear. Has work been stressful lately?" her mother asked.

"No, mom. Everything's fine." Not really. The last two days have been absoltely crazy.

"Okay...but you tell me if anything's wrong. Your father and I will do whatever we can."

"I know. Where is Dad, anyway? Is he outside?"

"Yes. He's out on the grill with Ryan and Cameron getting the food ready."

"I better go and say hello to him, then," she said while starting for the screen door which led to the garden.

"Oh no you don't," Camille said, grabbing her wrist and pushing her down onto the couch next to her mother. "Talk to us! How's work going? Any new men?"

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink at her sister's comment. Boyfriends, or just boys in general, had never gone well for her. Even when she was a teenager, she was always nervous around them. At homecoming and prom she would always babble during the slow dances, trying to make the awkward silence to go away. And her first time...God it was awful. He was a really nice guy and was actually very good in the bedroom, but she was so nervous and had no idea what to do. Not even 15 minutes after they were done he was out the door, and all because she couldn't relax.

"Works fine. I'm actually working on an adoption right now for a little girl named Amy. Um, let's see...other than that nothing's really new." She didn't want to mention anything about the murder. It would only bring up conversations in which Camille would freak out over her daughter's safety.

"And the men?" Camille asked.

Carrie sighed, "Not really."

"Not really meaning no? Or not really meaning you have some one in mind but you're just not telling us."

"Not really meaning no."

"Oh come on, there has to be some one."

"But there's really not. The last guy that I met is much too involved with his job, and also kicked me out of his car. So...no."

"Why were you in his car?" Johanna asked. Oh great, now her mother was asked about this part of her life.

"He was, he was giving me a ride home because I thought he'd have my keys, but he didn't."

"Why would this man have your keys?" her mother asked sternly.

She sighed again, knowing that there was now no way to avoid explaining what had happened with Blake. "Okay, so I had to help a police officer with some files Thursday night. I...I did have a couple of drinks-"

"Oh, Carrie..." both women muttered.

"-and so he offered to drive me home. Apparently I gave him my keys because he said that he'd drop off my car the next day. Well, I didn't remember that, so yesterday I showed up wanting my keys, but he already drove my car home. So, he gave me another ride home. But, halfway to my apartment, he got a call for a robbery, and so he kinda kicked me out of the car and I walked home."

Out of all of what she had just said, Camille decided to say, "That doesn't mean he doesn't like you."

She rolled her eyes, "Well, I don't think he does. Besides, I would never date a cop. They're too...I don't know. I just don't like them."

"You never know what will happen in the future, Carrie. When I was younger I told myself that I'd never give up my job for a guy. Now look at me. I'm a stay at home mom. Would you ever imagine that?"

"Yes," Johanna cut in, "and I never thought that I'd fall in love with doctor. But I still married your father."

Camille furrowed her eye brows at her, "I thought you said that you always had a thing for doctors."

"When I was younger, like you two, I hated doctors. But now that I'm older, I can look back and realized that I was actually drawn to them."

"I think that's enough guy talk for today," Carrie told the two women. It was starting to get uncomfortable.

"Okay...but Carrie, I want you to be more open. To everything. Learn to love what you hate. And remember, time won't slow down for you, so don't put things on hold," her mother said.

"Alright, alright. I'm going to say hi to all the guys. You two enjoy your little gossip party."

Carrie got up and walked towards the door, wanting nothing more than to get away from her mother and sister. As much as she loved them, they drove her crazy, especially when they spoke to her about guys. It wasn't like she was 35 and single! She had plenty of time to find some one.

"Oh, Carrie?" Camille asked.

She turned around and looked at her sister. "I forgot to ask, was he cute?" Camille smirked at her.

She glared at her sister. And if her mom wasn't there, she might of flipped her off.

Oh, how she loved her sister.

* * *

_Again...sorry for any mistakes! I'd really love your thoughts about the story and what you'd all like to read from it. So tell me a few ideas that you have, I might like them. Plan on an update soon!_

_~GravityDefier7827_


	8. Chapter 8

_Here's the next chapter of A Silver Lining! I'm excited about the plans I have for this story, and you'll see a little bit of what's to come at the end. Like I said earlier, I'm not exactly sure how orphanages and the police work. So, if I offend anyone of how my interpretation of how they work, I apologize._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

"So how's work going, Carrie?" Ryan asked across the dining room table.

Carrie swallowed, then said, "It's fine, everything's fine. Right now I'm getting a little girl ready for her adoption. The parents are coming on Thursday."

"That's nice," her father, Nicholas, cut in.

"Yeah, well, I'm just doing my job," she said as she wrung her hands underneath the table.

"And we're all so proud of you for doing that," he said.

Carrie's cheeks flushed as she looked down at her plate. After high school, the spotlight was never a comfortable place for her. She loved moving her parents' attention from her brother and sister to her, but sometimes it was plain uncomfortable. Especially when the entire family was all together.

She nudged her brother's arm. "How's the running coming?" Carrie was purposefully moving the attention to Cameron.

His face lit up as he turned towards her. "It's good. I'm sprinting 100's and 200's pretty well and working on my throwing. For discus. And...let's see...I ran a 6:24 for the mile, yesterday."

She nodded her head in fake understanding, but smiled and congratulated him nonetheless, "Good job." Running was never a sport that she like nor followed, and so his talk of 100's and 200's went over her head as soon as they left his mouth. Discus, too, or whatever else he said about his favorite sport. Overall, her knowledge of sports were limited.

"Yes. And Cameron, you have a meeting with that summer camp coach coming up next week. You might want to start preparing for that," her mother said as properly as always.

Cameron groaned, "What's there to prepare for, Mom?"

Johanna blinked and stared at him like he's just grown a third eye. "Well, you're going to have to look nice, so wear a tie. You'll have to think about what you're going to say to-"

"Mom, mom, stop," Camille interrupted. She set her fork down and gestured towards her brother. "Listen to me. Cameron is a runner who is also 14 years old. He's not going to a job interview."

"Oh...yes. I'm sorry, dear. It completely slipped my mind." The older woman shook her head a few times, trying to clear it. Carrie and Camille shared a knowing glance out of corner of their eyes, each thinking the same thing. They'd have that talk with their mother later.

The clink of silverware on plates were the only sounds made in the next moments. That was, until a plain ring tone started to blare from Carrie's pocket.

Her mother glared at her. "You know we don't allow cell phones at the table, Carrie."

"Sorry, Mom," she not so sincerely apologized as she glanced at the caller-ID. It was Dave.

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. "Sorry, it's work. I'll be back in a second." Carrie hurriedly walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen, and once alone she held the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Carrie, it's Dave." He sounded...not right. Like how he was the morning after Ken Franklin was murdered.

She leaned against the counter. "Everything okay?"

He was mumbling something on the other end that she couldn't understand, like he was speaking to some one else. When he finally returned to her, he said, "No. I need you to come down as soon as possible."

If Dave didn't sound so worried, she might have groaned and try to persuade him otherwise. But not now, not when he sounded so anxious.

"What happened?" she asked as she slowly paced the kitchen, not exactly sure if she wanted the truth or not.

He sighed. "I'll explain later. Just...hurry, please."

Carrie nodded and bit her nail, which was a bad habit that she had gotten into when she was nervous. "Alright. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

"Thanks."

"Bye." She pressed the end button on her phone, staring at it for as long as it took for her to realize that she had to move. To leave.

She jogged to the dining room, not wanting to waste any time in getting down to the orphanage. "Mom? Dad?" Carrie called out to her parents, also not caring if she was being rude with her yelling.

It was her father who answered. "Yeah, Carrie?"

She entered the dining room with everyone staring at her. "That was work, and I need to get down there as soon as possible. I'm sorry."

Unlike her father, her mother looked annoyed. "Do you really have to leave, Carrie? I mean, you never get to see everyone and you already do so much for them. I'm sure that they can do one day without you."

Her father held up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait. Johanna, if she has to leave she has to leave." He turned to her. "Do they really need you?"

Carrie nodded as she picked at her nails. "Yeah. I'm really sorry. I promise I'll be able to stay next time." She started to move towards the door, picking up her purse and keys along the way. As she stepped out the grand door, she called out, "Love you, guys!" She heard a muted response as she closed the door and began to run towards her car.

As she sped down the road, over the speed limit as usual, the only thoughts in her head were those of how troubled her boss sounded. As some one who she always looked up to as fearless, tonight he sounded terrified.

* * *

Carrie stormed through the building, quite literally. She pushed the the front door open, marched up the stairs, and practically ran into her office. She normally would never have reacted like this to a call saying that she needed to come in. But because it was her boss who called, who also doesn't work on Saturdays, and by the way he sounded was what made her barge through the doors like a madwoman. She was so sidetracked with her worry that she didn't even see the cop cars parked out front.

Walking into the small office, she heard voices; too many of them. The dominant voices were too...commanding, unlike Dave's mellow tone. As she walked across the threshold, she saw whom the voices belonged to, and she wasn't at all surprised.

There were four officers in the small room, along with the evening shift employees, Dave, Kate, Brenda, and Emily. Some of them were speaking to the officers, some were pacing, and some were just sitting with a dazed look on her face. The only one to see, or acknowledge, that Carrie had come into the room was Brenda.

Brenda quickly got up from her seat and made her way over to her. "Carrie, thank God you're here." She, like Dave, sounded strained.

Carrie looked around the room, trying to piece together everything that had happened, but came up with nothing. "What's going on, Brenda? Dave called me and told me to get over here as soon as I could. So here I am, and some one needs to explain to me what's going on."

Brenda pursed her lips and eyed something in the corner of the room. She took a deep breath and patted her thigh, which was something that she did when she was stressed. It was a rare occurrence to see the older woman so nervous, but now was one of those times. "Listen, I don't think I should be the one to tell you. I think that one of the officers should..."

"Why can't Dave?" Carrie asked. "He's the one who called me."

"Dave's in the other room speaking to some one. Please, Carrie, just...talk to one of them. Right now we need every one working, and I need to help Marie and Nancy with the kids. I'm sorry." Brenda patted Carrie's shoulder and moved to exit the room. "We'll talk later, alright?" she called out from the door.

Carrie nodded at the older woman as she left the room. Once alone, she scanned the room again. Kate was tapping her foot nervously in a chair as she spoke to one of the officers. Also doing so was Andrew. Emily was sitting alone at Brenda's desk, and Audrey, who was once a pageant girl, now looked anything but glamorous as she sat in the corner looking exhausted and guilty. In the middle of the room were two other officers. They were speaking to each other in muffled voices with their heads together and backs to her. One of them gestured to Kate, and then to Carrie. When the other officer, the one who didn't motion to her, turned around, she knew immediately who he was.

It was Blake, of course. And by now she should have guessed that he'd be here. First working on a homicide, then responding to a burglary, and now he was here, helping out with whatever _this _was. He was doing everything, like he said on the first night she helped him.

Blake said something to the other officer, the latter nodding and walking off, before making his way over to her. He wasn't smiling nor was he frowning...he just looked stoic.

"I see that you made it," he said while nodding at her once.

Carrie crossed her arms over her chest. She was still-slightly-angry at him for what he did the night before, but the frustration was now all but a fleeting memory. The unsettling atmosphere of the room and the worry she still felt was all that she could think about during the moment.

"Yeah. And I still haven't been told why I need to be here. So maybe you could..." She let her statement fade into the air.

Her hands automatically went to her nails when Blake hesitated, opening his mouth to say something, but breathing instead. His eyes flashed to one of the other officers in the room before returning to her. "I think we should sit down..." Like her, he let the sentence trail off. Only he did it because of the loud opening of a door, unlike her.

He spun around, looking towards Dave's office, where the noise had come from. Slowly, Dave stepped out of his room with an officer in tow. Kate quickly stood up and made her way over to him. He looked up to her, and Carrie saw that he looked exactly as he had sounded on the phone.

Kate placed a hand on his shoulder, and then spoke to him in a quiet, strained voice. "Any news?"

Dave shook his head slowly. "No. They're sending more units out to look for them."

"For who?" Carrie asked, to Blake. Her voice was only loud enough for him to hear, if he even could hear her over the increasing pounding of her heart.

He turned back around and looked at her, and she saw that his face was the still same, no worse, than last night. His dark eyes were dim and his lips straight as he spoke to her, his voice low. "The twin siblings of Ken Franklin. They...disappeared earlier this evening."

* * *

_So...cliffhanger? I'm not used to writing them, so the last part of the chapter might have seemed a little weird. Oh, well. Thoughts?_


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9 of A Silver Lining! I'm really excited about what's gonna come! :)_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight Universe._

* * *

"How the _hell _do two _small _kids disappear from an _orphanage?_" Carrie asked slowly, her voice rising in volume, and anger, with each word said.

When Blake had told her about the Franklin twins, a fire had risen from deep within her and had taken control of her mouth, to put it modestly. Carrie was frantic, angry, worried, nervous, angry, rude, and all other things when Dave took her aside into her office. The second his door closed she exploded. Angry, rhetorical questions were practically yelled and twice her fist had made contact with something solid...as her sister would say, she "lost it".

Dave shook his head and rubbed his tired face. "Carrie, I don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out. It's just...it's complicated. I don't know what else to say here."

She strode across the room and stood in front of her boss, looking him straight in the eye with a look that could make Batman himself cower. "What you need to say is that you're gonna call up everyone you know, tell them to come down here, and then help us look for Marissa and Tommy."

He sighed, "I can't do that, Carrie, you know I-"

She stepped back and threw her arms in the air. "The hell you can't! You called me!"

"That's because you have a right to know. You know them and can help."

"And the others can't? They work with them as much as I do- _more _than I do."

Dave went to his desk and sat down, placing his head in his hands as he let out a shaky breath. Now, more than ever, he looked like the man Carrie first thought he was: old, paranoid, stressed, and helpless. Then again, he had a right to be, given the circumstances.

"They won't let us help, you know," Dave said as he looked up at her. "I tried to tell them that we could help, but they said that they had in under control. That they're doing everything they can." Dave snorted. "Even I know that that's a lie."

"They won't let us out?" Carrie asked, dumbfounded.

He shook his head. "I tried- trust me I tried- but they won't give in. Told me that it could just complicate things, especially because it's getting dark out. If you ask me, that's all the more reason to let us out there."

Carrie paced a trail into the floor and ran her hands through her hair. "How long have they been...missing?"

"Nancy noticed that they weren't there to get a snack around 3:30. They looked for a while, but at four they called the police. Dylan said that he saw them at three in the backyard, so we know they left through the back gate."

"Isn't that gate locked?"

"One of the keys went missing this morning. They must've taken it when no one was looking."

Carrie fell into one of the chairs opposite of Dave's desk. This night was just so...complicated. And truth be told she didn't fully understand or believe what had all happened in the last three hours. Two kids don't just disappear from an orphanage; it doesn't happened. Even if they willingly left, that doesn't explain why no one noticed.

She copied him by putting her face in her hands. "I don't understand how they can just disappear."

He paused, "It's going to be alright, Carrie."

She lifted her face to his quickly, giving him a glare like earlier. "Don't. Don't tell me that it's going to be alright if you can't guarantee it."

"I know that I can't guarantee that the outcome of this situation will be a good one, but I know that in the end this will all work out." He spoke to her in a fatherly tone; strong, steady, and defiant.

Carrie slowly lowered her hands as her eyes grew wide. "How...how can you say that? You have _no _idea what's happening to those kids right now, but you're saying that it's going to be _alright? _If things were alright they'd be here right now instead of God knows where! Do you understand what you're saying, Dave?"

"Carrie, you need to stay calm. I understand that this is a lot to take in...but don't lose you're temper of it. Especially with me."

She stood up, suddenly feeling that she was being bound to the chair and forced to listen to Dave's words. But she didn't want to hear it, she couldn't. "Don't tell me to calm down. This is _not _a situation where we can be calm. There are two _kids_, Dave, that are out on the street and have no where to go. And that's if they're still there! Do you realize that they could be gone right now? They could have been taken and then what happens? Dave, listen to me, we cannot sit here and do nothing!"

"Carrie, you need to stop," Dave told her, also standing up. His voice was rising, too. "I understand that you're worried about these kids, so am I, but I am telling you that you need to get yourself under control. Freaking out won't help anyone."

"I'm not freaking out! I'm trying to tell you that we can't stay here! We need to go out there and find them!"

"Stop it, Carrie. If you don't calm down I will have you taken home."

She stared at him, wide eyed and mouth open. "How can you do that? I'm trying to help you and you're threatening to send me home? What the hell are you trying to do, Dave? You're the one who called me here-"

"Because I thought you could help. I see now that that was a mistake." Dave quickly walked over to the door and exited the office. Carrie was quick to follow.

"Dave," she called after him, "Dave, what are you doing? You can't do this, not when we need to focus on Marissa and Tommy."

He spun on his heel, now facing Carrie. Neither of them noticed the small audience in the room that was listening to every word said. "I'm sorry Carrie, but I need you to leave. All you're doing is complicating things and I can't have that right now. So please, leave."

Her temper rose even more. "Dave, I am not leaving. I can help, but I need to get out there. I can't stay here and do nothing."

"And you weren't going to!" Dave exploded in her face. "You could have helped, Carrie, but by the way you're acting you're showing me that you can't handle this. Now, you can either leave willingly, or I will have you removed."

Carrie's jaw was clenched as she slowly shook her head at him. "I can't believe you," she said quietly, "I hope you know that you're wasting every minute you spend arguing with me when you could be looking for those kids!" By the time she was done Carrie was yelling, her face red and hot.

"Then you need to leave, now. Officer-"

"Don't do this, Dave."

"Officer take her outside."

"Listen to me, Dave, you need to-"

"Now!"

"Dave!"

One of the officers had come from behind Carrie and placed a hand on her arm, which she quickly shook off. They tried again, this time pushing her forward and towards the door. She turned around and yelled, "Dave! Dave, please- get off me!" The officer, who she realized was, surprise, Blake was quickly pushing her back by grasping her arm. Shaking him off wasn't an option, this time.

Blake forced her through the doors and down the stairs with Carrie struggling, fighting, and yelling the whole way. He didn't say anything, only increasing the pressure of his grasp when she thrashed against him. As he dragged her through the front doors and stepped outside, she finally shook him off and stumbled away from him.

Her jaw was clenched and she was breathing heavily, but she never said anything. She only stared at him, as he did to her.

Blake was the one to break the silence. "We're doing what we can," he said calmly.

"I don't want to hear it," she spat back at him.

He breathed a sigh and took a step closer. "You know that what you did back there was out of line. Your boss was right."

"Of course you agree with him. Everyone does. So, you know what? Why don't you lecture me just like he did. Go on, I'm listening."

Blake looked around the street before returning to her. "I'm not gonna yell at you," he told her, everything about him reeking of honesty.

Carrie pursed her lips and gestured at him with her hand. "What are you gonna do then?"

He leaned back and looked at the multiple police cars that were parked in the front. When he glanced back at her, Blake said, "I'm gonna take you home."

* * *

_Okay...so quick note. I'm not mad about this, but it does kinda confuse me. So, I've noticed that the reviews are decreasing as the story goes on. Any ideas why? _

_On another note...thoughts of the chapter? I didn't proof read it because I was exicted about getting it out. Sorry! Hope you all enjoyed!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Okay! Chapter 10 is here and I'm pretty excited about it! I'm thinking that you'll like this one a lot...Also, thanks to all the reviewers of the last chapter. It's nice to hear that you're still liking the story!_

_And...a huge thank you to my beta! Your comments helped so much, more than you think!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight Universe._

* * *

He drove slow. Very.

And honestly, Carrie thought he did so on purpose. As the minutes dragged on and on in the passenger side, her anger slowly subsided and her embarrassment grew. To make it worse, Blake was silent the entire way, only stealing a glance of her out of the corner of his eye every minute or so.

Had she really been that furious at Dave? And, God, the way she acted out in the office in front of everyone...it would be a miracle if she still had her job on Monday. But, still, there was still a part of her mind that told her that she had done nothing wrong. Two children were missing, and they _calm_ about it. How could they be calm about something like this? How could Dave _stand _there and yell at her for trying to help? Honestly, it was like she was the only one who wanted to find Marissa and Tommy. She had every right to react the way she did.

That little conversation in her mind only took up a few minutes of the trip. And so that left Carrie with almost nothing else to think of. Almost. The other thing left for her to dwell on was the cop beside her that was constantly glancing at her.

The first thing she noticed, after darting her eyes at him for a moment, was that his eyes looked even darker at night. At least tonight they were. Maybe it wasn't the night, though. Maybe it was because of the twins. Or maybe it was because he had to take her home, again. Whatever the reason was, they were as black as the sky against his fair skin.

She cursed herself inwardly for thinking that he looked like one of the vampires from the _Twilight _serious. Damn Camille for making her watch those movies...

His knee was twitching, too. His left leg was moving up and down, up and down, up and down...was he nervous? Adding to the fact that he seemed on edge, his hands were gripping the steering wheel in a tight grip. His knuckles were slowly losing their color and Carrie silently wondered if he was always this tense.

"Are you okay?" The words seemed to slip out of her, and she barely stopped herself from slapping her hands to her mouth. They also came out softer than expected, keeping in mind that she just came from a screaming match with her boss.

Blake snorted the air from his nose, almost like he was laughing at her. "I'm not the one who just spent the past 20 minutes yelling her lungs out."

Was she really that loud?

Carrie shook her head, ridding herself of the question. "Yeah, but I'm not the one who's trying to break the steering wheel," she pointed out.

The car stopped, and his grip instantly loosened. He had parked in the complex's lot, and she wondered briefly what her neighbors would think they looked out their window's and saw a cop car. Mr. and Mrs. Devon down the hall would definitely be stashing away most of the items in their bedroom...

The slam of a door brought her back down from her thoughts. She looked at the drivers seat, but found that he was already out of the car and walking towards her side. She quickly scrambled out of the vehicle before he could get to her. He would have opened her door, Carrie was sure of it, but if he did, it would only make her guilt of the evening increase. She didn't deserve respect tonight, not when she didn't give any to her boss.

When she had closed her own door, Carrie looked at Blake, who was standing by the hood of the car with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at her too, waiting for her to say something.

And she did, after the silence became uncomfortable. "Did you...need, something?"

Blake shook his head. "Nope. Just waiting for you."

"To do...what?"

"To be ready to go inside." He spoke to her like why he was waiting for her was obvious.

She looked at him with an eyebrow cocked. "Did you plan on coming inside?"

Taking a step closer, Blake said, "I plan on making sure that you're okay."

Carrie crossed her arms over her chest. "Thank you, but I'm fine."

"Listen," she could tell that he was trying to be gentle with her, he was being careful. "I know that this can be a lot to take in, especially because it all happened so fast. I also know that you're not some one who's gonna break, at least not now, over something like this."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself...but it would make me feel better knowing that you're home safe and that you're okay."

"Well," Carrie bit the inside of her cheek. "I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get mugged going up the stairs, and I can assure you that I'm not going to have a break down in my hallway. I think I'll be just fine."

Blake sighed, not phased by her attempt at humor. "Please, Carrie. I'm just making sure that you're not going to do anything stupid."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like try to go out and look for them. And I can see on your face that you were thinking about that."

Damn. She'll have to work on a better poker face, at least when she's around him. When she didn't respond to him, Blake asked, "You ready?"

Carrie nodded, not quite sure how else to answer him.

* * *

Blake followed her in silence. He didn't let out a labored breath while walking up those three flights of stairs, and he didn't even comment when he head the loud noises coming from the Devon's room. He was almost like a shadow; his eyes were as dark as one.

She really tried not to fumble with the keys, and Blake perched against the wall beside her wasn't helping any, but she did. It took multiple attempts with trying to open the door, but finally, after he had stared a hole through the side of her face, it clicked open and Carrie fell into the room. She recovered quickly before he could say anything, and then began to walk towards the kitchen. For a moment she considered breaking open another bottle of wine, it had been quite a stressful evening...but when she head the door shut she was reminded that there was some one else with her. And that some one was a cop. It wasn't like she was going to go overboard with the wine, her college days were long gone, but if Blake saw her pouring herself a glass he'd probably freak out. His experience with slightly tipsy Carrie wasn't the greatest, and by the way he acted around her, he wouldn't let her touch the bottle.

She was throwing her purse down on the counter and pushing away those thoughts of red wine when Blake entered her small kitchen. He looked...hesitant, especially when he looked at her. It was like he was waiting for her to explode.

"Well...I'm here, and safe, as you would say," she said to him.

Blake nodded and leaned up against the wall behind him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he responded, "For the moment."

Carrie sighed, "I'm not going to go anywhere. It's late, and I think that I should just get some rest."

"Back at the orphanage you were pretty enthusiastic about going out there and looking for the twins." Of course he'd bring up what had happened earlier.

She, too, crossed her arms, "Listen, I'm...sorry for what happened. I know I overreacted, but that's just how I respond to things like that."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," he pointed out.

"I know."

They stood there for a minute, neither speaking, only shifting their eyes from object to object. He was studying her apartment, while she was just trying to not look at him. When she lost the attempt, she saw that he looked like he was in no hurry to leave.

"Did you...need anything?" Carrie asked slowly. Was he going to put her to bed or something?

That seemed to break him out of his daze. Blake straightened his back and his arms snapped down to his side. He looked at her and said, "No, no, just making sure everything's good."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure things are alright."

Blake nodded at her before he moved and quickly grabbed a pen and a sticky note from the container behind him. Scribbling something down, he said, "Listen, I know I'm not your first choice, but I do know what this feels like. If you ever need some one to just talk to or whatever, you can give me a call."

Carrie shook her head at him. "No, I think I'm alright. I'm not...I don't act like that. It's not something I normally do."

"I know. But sometimes it helps."

She paused before answering. "Yeah, okay. Fine."

Blake place the note on the counter in front of him and looked at the clock. "I should probably get going...they might need me back..."

Carrie nodded, maybe a bit to eagerly. "No, I understand." When he started to retreat out of the kitchen, she called out to him, wanting to make sure that what he did was at least halfway appreciated.

"Blake," she stopped to let him turn around, "thanks, again. I know you didn't have to do what you did, but...I do appreciate it."

He lifted one of the corners of his mouth. "It's always a pleasure." Ha, she doubted it. "And it's not Blake, not to you. You can call me John."

Her eyes widened slightly at the request. "Okay. Thank you then, John."

"Have a nice night." Blake nodded to her once more before turning around and leaving her apartment.

When she heard the door close, she let out a long, tired sigh and rested her head on her arms. It had been a long day. No, a long week. Everything that had happened was just so...unrealistic. It felt like she was living in a soap opera; never getting a break from the unexpected.

From the corner of her eye, Carrie saw the note that he left for her. She lifted herself up and reached out to grab the piece of paper. In his messy scrawl, it read:

_Just in case._

_ (764)-555-0174_

Carrie took a deep breath. She knew that he was just trying to help her, and she really did appreciate that, but would she really need to call and just _talk _to him? She doubted it.

She began to walk towards the trash can text to the stove, note in hand. Stepping on the pedal to make the lid lift, she crumbled up his note. But as she made the move to throw it away, she stopped.

Not fully knowing the reason why, Carrie pulled her hand back and lifted her foot. She stared at the paper in her hand again, thinking hard about what he had said.

_"...I do know what this feels like..."_

_ "...sometimes it helps..."_

He had a point. And right now, that point, no matter how small it might have been, was enough to make her keep his number. So, she turned around, took a few steps forward, and stuck it to the refrigerator door.

Just in case.

* * *

_Okay...I have to say this...the number in this chapter is FAKE! I used a 555 number to emphasize that fact even more. So please don't try to call it!_

_Also, I have nothing against Twilight._

_Thoughts?_


	11. Chapter 11

_Okay...so sorry for the lateness of this chapter! School started and so I've been extremely busy. Also...our football season started...and I'm a huge fan! ;) _

_This chapter is DEFINITELY not my greatest work. I wanted to get a chapter out quickly for you guys because it's a holiday right now. So it's not been proof read, or had a beta check over it. Sorry! But I do plan writing more this weekend, so expect another longer chapter tomorrow or the next day!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

To say the least, Carrie didn't sleep much that night. That is, if you even call what she was doing sleeping.

After Blake left, she had stepped in the shower, which did little to soften the muscles in her back. Dressing in a random shirt and sweats afterward, she turned on her television and watched a couple reruns of _The Big Bang Theory_. It did no use, though; the humor of the show did nothing to distract her thoughts.

When the clock struck 12:30, Carrie decided that she should at least try to rest, even if that meant staring at her ceiling until five in the morning. And that's what she did. Except for the occasion fifteen or thirty minute nap that she managed, she tossed and turned all night. Whether it was from the stress, guilt, uneasiness, or whatever other feeling she had, she didn't have a clue. All that she knew was that her ceiling was extremely bland.

Unlike most days, when her alarm clock screamed its awakening, she immediately got out of bed instead of hitting the snooze button seven times and groggily rolling onto the floor. She readied herself for the day quietly and quickly, only dressing in jeans and a white blouse, putting her hair in a pony tail, and applying minimal make up. With a granola bar and water bottle in hand, she was out the door by 5:30.

Getting to the orphanage was easy, seeing that there was little to no traffic on the roads this early in the morning. At 5:45 she was walking through the front door, surprised to hear quiet conversations coming from upstairs.

As she climbed the stairs, Carrie heard that there were four voices; two male and two female. She could tell that one belonged to Dave and one to Brenda, but the others were unknown. Perhaps Steve? Or maybe another officer?

She hesitantly walked into the office, not wanting to draw attention to herself...she already did that last night. In the middle of the office sat the four conversing people: Dave, Brenda, Kate, and and one of the officers from last night. Brenda and Kate were facing towards the door, making them see Carrie first, and, of course, they gave her a huge entrance.

Brenda stood up from her seat. "Carrie? Are you alright?"

"Is everything okay?" Kate added.

The officer was looking at her when she answered quickly, "Everything's fine."

She stood awkwardly by the wall, not saying anything until the two women sat back down. She hated being in this situation; everybody looking at her and not speaking. It was like they were waiting for her to pour her heart out or start screaming at them.

Dave had turned back around, making the guilt she had hid away last night come rising back up. Clenching her hands together, Carrie breathed in and blurted out, "Dave, can I talk to you?"

Not glancing at her, he responded, "Yes?"

She huffed and tapped her foot in annoyance. "Alone?"

Dave paused a moment before answering her. "I suppose." He stood from his chair and told the two ladies, "Kate, Brenda, keeping talking to Officer Dawes about the behavior of the twins. I'll be back soon."

Carrie followed Dave silently, now starting to get angry that he wouldn't look at her. Even when he shut his office door closed, no glances were made. It was when he was seated across from her at his desk when he, finally, met her eyes. She noticed that they were full of impatience.

"What would you like to discuss, Carrie?" he asked calmly.

In her lap she was picking at her nails, the anger now replaced by more guilt. Now she was the one who couldn't meet his suddenly intense gaze. Looking at the picture of him and Kate behind his desk, she muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Yes?" The calmness was still present in his voice.

"You know...just...look," she struggled with her words, "I know what happened last night was out of line, but I was stressed, okay? You know I go overboard when things like this happen."

Dave nodded, but stayed silent. That made her all the more uncomfortable. When the quietness became too much, she looked back at him. "What do you want me to say?"

He studied her for a moment before answering. "I want you to tell me that it's not going to happen again."

"It's not going to happen again."

He leaned back in his chair. "Do you actually mean that?"

Carrie bit her lip, deciding to lie or tell the truth. "I can try." Well, it wasn't a complete lie...

Dave nodded, then stood up and walked over to the door. "I guess we have nothing to discuss, then."

"Wait," Carrie stopped him, "aren't you going to tell me what the latest news is?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Why not?" she exclaimed, getting up from her seat and walking towards him.

"I can't have another repeat of last night, Carrie. We can't have you disrupting the investigation again."

"I...That's not going to happen again, Dave. I'm calm, I'm thinking straight, and I can help. Please..." she pleaded with him.

Dave looked like he was struggling with answering her. Sending her off might mean losing some one who could actually help, but keeping her could lead to another fight.

He sighed before telling her, "I have some officers coming down in a few minutes; they're going to go searching for leads. You can go with them."

Carrie broke out in a huge smile, feeling a huge urge to throw her arms around him. Instead, she told him, "Thank you, Dave...I promise I'll do whatever I can."

He couldn't help but return the smile while opening the door. "I sure hope so," he said to her.

They walked threw the door and into the main office looking much happier than earlier, and the others noticed it, including the three new officers, two unfamiliar ones and one that seemed to appear where ever Carrie was.

And when she did finally notice Blake standing behind Brenda and Kate, her smile didn't falter one bit.

* * *

_I know...not that exciting. But the next chapter involves Blake...a lot...;) Thoughts? Every comment counts!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Okay! So, it's one day late, but I'm pretty sure you guys are gonna like this chapter. :) I promise that the next chapter will have a beta. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

"You seem happier," Blake commented from the drivers side.

Carrie shrugged and continued to stare out the window. "Yeah, well, things are going better for me today, I guess."

"I hope you're not the only one," he quietly added.

She looked at him with and eyebrow raised. "What?"

He glanced at her, too. "Oh," he started, "I meant that I hope things are better for everyone, not just you. Well, no. I'm glad that things are better for you, but I'm hoping that things go well for this investigation and the twins, too."

Digging her nails into her palms to keep from letting a laugh escape, Carrie just nodded at him and said, "Okay." As she turned her head back to the side, though, another smile graced her lips from his jumbled explanation.

She was sent off with Blake when she and Dave had left his office. The three officers were checking in before they headed out and started to search for Tommy and Marissa. And because Dave had promised that she was allowed to assist the police during the investigation, she was able to go with one of the officers. According to the logical side of Carrie, the only reason why she chose Blake was because he was the closest to her. It was _not_ because of the fact that she might actually enjoy talking to him...

To be honest, she was a little worried about how the beginning of their conversation might start. Last night was a bit...intense. And to pretend like it never happened wasn't the smartest decision in the world. Did she really want to bring it up, though? Not really.

But when she headed down with Blake to his car, he acted as if things between the two were normal, actually better than normal. He spoke to her like he would speak to a friend or a close colleague. And, as of right now, he didn't bring up anything of the night before.

"So where are we going?" Carrie asked.

Taking a right, Blake responded, "Down to Riverton Park. One of the employees, I think Brenda was her name, said that the two kids always talked about the place. It most likely was a place where they went as really young kids with their brother and parents."

"The park holds sentimental value, and they might think of it as a safe place to be," she added.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression full of understanding. "Exactly."

She paused a moment, inwardly deciding that it was okay to speak to Blake about the situation. And, though she hated to admit it, he didn't act like other cops. He was actually some one that she trusted; just a little bit, though. "I still can't believe this is all happening, you know?" she said, "It's just...it's like the world's moving so fast and I can't catch up to it. Things keep happening that I can't understand."

Blake took a long breath, keeping his hands tight on the wheel and eyes set straight ahead. Slowly, he told her, "I know exactly how you feel."

She saw the discomfort on his face, as concealed as he tried to make it. The sudden feeling of guilt rose deep in her chest at the sight. Why did she even say that? Things were actually going well between the two of them...and she had to go on and make everything weird again. Great going.

Carrie clasped her hands together and wrung them out. Staring at her lap, she said, "I'm...sorry, about saying that. I, I don't know why I did and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I just thought-"

"Carrie," he interrupted her.

She looked at him hesitantly, not knowing what to expect. She's met with newly softened eyes and an amused expression, telling her that she's over-thought things, again.

"I'm not mad, or uncomfortable, okay?" he told her, "That...what you said reminded me of some things." She couldn't help but noticed his hands were clenched again.

Breathing out a quiet sigh of relief, she separated her hands and sent an embarrassed smile towards Blake. "Sorry," she mumbled once more.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he parked in one of the open spots in the park lot. Because it was early in the morning, not many people were out. Besides the occasional jogger, the park was desolate.

Switching off the ignition, Blake turned to Carrie and explained, "Now, what we're doing is just looking around the park. If we see something, I'll call it in. If not, then we leave it be and keep looking. And look for details, that will help a lot."

"Shouldn't there be more people coming?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Unless we notice something. Some of the others are heading to different spots."

She nodded and got out of the car, as did he. They began to walk on the cobblestone path that took them through the calm and peaceful area. The park wasn't big, maybe a half mile all the way around the path, but because they were searching, it would probably be more than a 10 minute walk. Especially if Blake wanted details.

During the silence of their walk, a thought entered Carrie's mind. "By doing all the searching and looking, does that make you a detective? I mean, what technically even are you?"

Blake, who was peering through a jumble of trees and bushes, answered, "I've just been given the title of officer. Like I said before, I'm just looking for as much experience as I can."

"How long have you been doing," she gestured him with her hands, "this?"

He shrugged and continued to walk ahead. "I graduated from the academy a few years back. And this is what I've been doing ever since." Turning back to look at her, he asked, "What about you? How long have you been working for the orphanage?"

It was her turn to shrug, now. "A year or so. I used to volunteer there when I was younger, so it seems like I've been there a lot longer than I have."

Blake smiled at her. "That means a lot to them. When I was a kid we only had a few visitors come down and help. It was usually just us and the staff. But you know how that works."

She bit her cheek, hard, before hesitantly asking him, "Which orphanage did you go to?"

It didn't take long for him to answer, but Carrie could tell that his tone was secluded. "St. Swithins. It's a home for boys down on 5th."

"Oh, I've been there a few times," she told him, but it didn't seem like he was listening.

It seemed like the topic of his childhood was now closed, even if it was never really opened. He was a few feet ahead of her, hands tucked to his sides and back straight. Silence enveloped the two while he walked in front of her, reminding her of the first time he drove her home. It wasn't like their silence was unbearable, but it wasn't the most comfortable, either.

Those thoughts were all erased, though, when she saw his hands relax and his pace slow so that they were soon walking in step together. He took a moment from his searching to look at her, almost apologetically, and ask, "What about you? Where did you grow up?"

Carried shrugged at him and answered, "Right here in Gotham. I've never really been anyplace else."

"Any siblings?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head, "an older sister and a younger brother."

Blake laughed, "Middle child, huh?"

"Yep, and it's just as painful as the shows make it out to be," Carrie told him.

Blake said, "It can't be that bad."

"Oh, but it can be. I'll let you meet them some day, and then you'll understand," she promised.

He didn't respond, but he did laugh once more at her complaining. They were nearing the end of the path, and still there was no sign of the twins. Of course, they did spend an ideal amount of time talking to each other, but she doubted that the siblings were even here in the first place.

"Well," Blake said as they reached the end of the path, "I don't think there's anything here."

Carrie shook her head. "So what now?"

He started to lead her towards the car. "I can take you back to the orphanage, if you'd like. Or we can head to the station and try someplace new."

Opening the door to the passenger side, "Well, I'm as sure as hell not going back home just to sit around and wait. So it looks like we're going to the station."

He too got in the car. Once seated, he paused and shook his head. Carrie looked at him in question. "What?"

Blake looked at her, a knowing expression on his face. "I should've known from last night that you would rather do anything than do nothing."

"You basically just described my whole life," she told him.

"Oh, I'm sure there's more to you than that," he teased.

She shrugged, once more, at him and let a crooked smile appear on her lips. "I guess you'll just have to find out."

He returned the expression and started the car. "I guess so."

* * *

_Thoughts? :)_


	13. Chapter 13

_So...yeah...I'm the worst person. Ever. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my hiatus? Maybe? :( So sorry!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

"And you know what she did? She tripped herself down the stairs a broke her ankle so that my mom had to take her to the emergency room. And all because I was a better driver than her."

"Was she really that jealous?" Blake asked, laughing as they sat backed up in traffic.

"Yes!" Carrie exclaimed, beginning to laugh herself, "And she still is! Even today I can't do anything better than her. If I do she'll start rattling off all these crazy stories of her glory days in high school or of how much more successful in life she's been. You just can't win with her."

"Her husband must be extremely patient," he noted.

"He's one of the kindest person I've ever met, which adds more to the fact that I can't believe he married her."

"I'm sure she's not that bad."

Carrie shook her head. "No, no, no...she's worse. The first time you meet her, she's this sweet and innocent little girl, but when you get her in a room full of people, she's the bragging devil."

The car accelerated forward with the other cars around them as Blake coughed a laugh. "The bragging devil?"

Realizing her less-than-intelligent comparison, she turned her head away as her cheeks turned pink. "Trust me," she muttered, "if you knew her you wouldn't be laughing."

The streets of down-town Gotham began to resume to its normal flow in the following minutes. As he rounded a corner, Blake's' eyes spotted one of his favorite places to stop, and he couldn't restrain his urge to ask, "Wanna stop for some coffee?"

Carrie lifted her head and looked from the Starbucks building to their left back to the officer next to her. He seemed to see the hesitation in her face, because next he said, "I'm buying."

That seemed to push her over the edge. She smiled and looked forward, shaking her head at him. "Anything for coffee, huh?"

"Everything for coffee," he corrected.

* * *

Walking through the massive double doors, Carrie noted that the station was much busier than the last time she had been there. Footsteps all throughout the floor echoed through the hallway, voices were heard from every corner, and keyboards and clicking from every cubicle. She noticed that, despite her jeans, she would have fit right in with the other workers: coffee in hand and a case to work on.

She felt like taking the lead, wanting to prove herself to the officer next to her, who had already finished his drink. So, she took the right that would lead her to the stairs. Blake's voice stopped her, though.

"That's not the way, you know." His tone was friendly and slightly amused.

She turned around, confused. "Okay, just because I had a few drinks the last time I was here doesn't mean I'm stupid. This was the way that you took me last time," she told him confidently.

"Except last time I was taking you to my office. This time I'm taking you to Collins' for a meeting," he corrected her.

Stepping down from the first stair, she asked him, "When did you hear about this?"

"At Starbucks," he said to her, as if it was obvious.

"When?" she asked again, getting impatient.

Seeing her frustration, he explained to her with a knowing smile on his face, "When you left to go read those ads on the bulletin board."

Her face dropped in understanding, and the smile on his face grew even more. Nodding down the hallway and beginning to lead her in that direction, he said, "It's okay. Not everyone can be gifted with patience."

"And just what is that suppose to mean?" Carrie asked, a hint on defensiveness sprinkled in her voice.

"I'm sure you know," he told her, not explaining anything. He turned to face her when she didn't respond, and when he saw her glare, Blake rolled his eyes and said, "Lighten up, Carrie."

She looked forward and shook her head. "Because of that I don't think I will."

"And there's the stubbornness..."

"If you think this is me being stubborn, you haven't seen anything yet," she shot back at him.

She continued down the hallway, her pace increasing as if to say to Blake, "I can figure this out on my own." Of course, she didn't have a clue in hell where to go. Sometimes, though it was more frequent than not, her anger (stubbornness) controlled her mind, not her common sense and logic.

It wasn't until his voice rang out that, like earlier, she stopped. "You passed the room, Carrie," Blake told her.

Turning around, she saw that he was well over 10 feet away from her. She shot him a glare and chose to ignore his victorious gleam as she made her way back towards the room that he was standing outside of. Not even bothering to look at him or knock, she walked into the room.

Unfortunately for her, that was the wrong choice to make. The older man that had knocked on the orphanage's door a few days ago had stopped in the middle of his sentence to look up in the intruder, as did the other professional looking people sitting in the chairs across from him. Carrie's eyes grew wide as her heart started to pound. Looking at the man, then the floor, she stammered, "I'm so sorry. I'll just – wait...outside..."

Turing around quickly to leave, she stopped again to avoid crashing into Blake, who had moved around her to step into the room. Once clear, however, she took a big step into the hallway to clear out of the room.

Behind her, Blake's voice sounded, "Sorry, sir. We finished our walk through of Riverton Park. We'll be outside when you're ready."

A deep and older voice was the next that reached her ears; she guessed that it was the older man. "No, no. We were just finishing up. Come in, I've got some news."

With these words, Carrie let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding. She turned around and walked slowing behind Blake, waiting for him to enter before she did.

Walking forward, Blake introduced his new shadow, "Sir, you remember Carrie Bryan from Boys and Girls of Go-"

"Yes, yes," the man said as he laid his eyes on Carrie. "How are you?" he asked.

Eyes still slightly wide, she responded in a higher voice, "Fine, thanks."

"Good, now, well, I'll get straight to it. I just got a call from Davis. He gave me good news and bad news."

At these words, her heart began to pound again. Good news and bad news always meant that it was _really _bad news. She knew this from experience. When she was seven years old, her grandfather died. Her mother had given the news to her by first saying that she had gotten her friend's birthday party invitation, which made her extremely happy. Then, she had been told of the death, and also that the funeral was on the day of the party. That sure went over well.

Clenching her jaw, Carrie prepared for the worst as the man started again. "He told me that the two siblings had been found in an old deserted street down Mainway Avenue." At this, her heart leaped out of her chest and a huge smile formed on her face. She didn't even think about the bad news.

And so he continued, "The bad news is that the boy's leg and arm had been broken from trying to leap from a window. When EMTs got to the scene the girl had to be strapped down because she was running around all over the place. Both of them are still out at the Children's Hospital on 7th."

Though the news of Tommy's injury worried her, the joy on her face didn't falter in the slightest. They were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe. They. Were. Safe. At the moment, those three words meant the world and more to her.

It was Blake who put her happiness into words. "Thank you, sir. We'll go ahead and take care of their paperwork and transportation back to the orphange."

The man nodded. "Good work today, Blake. You too, Ms. Bryan."

"Th-thank you, sir." The words stumbled out of her mouth like water from a faucet.

"Go do what you need to do."

"Will do, sir," Blake said to the man.

He placed a hand on her back and led her out of the room. Once in the hallway, Blake closed the door and then turned to her. The corner of his mouth lifted at the sight of her practically jumping up and down.

"I think the coffee has finally gotten to you," he said.

"Can we...can we go?" she asked like a child.

"Do you want to?"

She shot him a small glare, then spun on her heel and headed towards the giant doors. This time, she knew exactly where she was going. And she heard his footsteps following her the whole time.

* * *

_So...do you like me enough to tell me your thoughts? Again...so sorry!_

_~GD7827_


	14. Chapter 14

_Well, it's Christman break! That means a lot more time to write, so expect atleast another chapter soon! This chapter I hope will satisfy you all a lot... ;) I think this is what you've been waiting for...so hopefully we can also reach 100 reviews this chapter! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

The car ride went quick, but not nearly quick enough for Carrie and her impatient mind. Though she tried to have Blake turn on the sirens, he shot her down with a laugh and said, "There's no hurry. They're not going anywhere."

She struggled to find words. "But...they...what if?...They-"

"Carrie," he said as he looked over to her with a lightness in his dark eyes, "It's not gonna kill you or them to wait an extra minute. Besides," he pointed off to the right, "the buildings right over there. We'll be there soon."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back into the seat with a "humph" and a slight pout. Despite the humor he found in her expression, Blake's foot pressed into the accelerator just a bit more to get her to her kids.

Before he even put the car in park underneath the overhang outside of the hospital doors, Carrie was out of the car and quickly walking into the building with no knowledge of where to go. But, with the little he knew about her, he did know that she didn't care if she looked like an idiot roaming the halls; she'd check every room if she had to. Clearing his thoughts, Blake turned off and jumped out of the car, eager to follow Carrie into the hospital.

Inside, Carrie had quickly squeezed herself through the sea of families and made her way to the front desk, where she not-so-patiently waited for the beach-blonde, young receptionist to get off the phone. When the twenty-something turned around and saw Carrie, she continued to chew her gum while saying to the person on the other end, "Yeah, I'll call you back later, kay? Mm, bye."

Hanging up, she looked at Carrie with big brown eyes, outlined with fake lashes and heavy, brown eyeliner. "And how can I help you, Miss?" she asked with hidden sneer.

Carrie, not smiling back at the woman, said, "I'm here for two kids that were admitted this morning. Their names are Tommy and Marissa Franklin, both ten years old. Tommy came in with a broken leg and arm, Marissa-"

"One second, please," the receptionist, whose name, according to her name tag, was Marilyn, said, cutting Carrie off. Marilyn typed on the computer for a minute while chewing her gum obnoxiously. Carrie, who was tapping her foot angrily, couldn't help but wonder how they hired people in this hospital.

When the blonde turned back to her, she asked, "What is your relationship with the patients?"

Quietly sighing, Carrie responded, "I work at the orphanage where they stay. They've been missing for a day and a half, and I was just told-"

Interrupting again, Marilyn said, "Can I have proof of your identity, please, Miss?"

With her eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched, Carrie, trying hard to keep her temper, said, "I don't have proof, but when have ever needed any to visit a child? You have to have somewhere on the computer something that says they're orphans, and if you just check the list of employees there you'll see Carr-"

God, what was with this lady and cutting people off? Marilyn held up a hand and told her, "Please, ma'am, it'd be much easier if you could show me proof of your profession. Now, please, if you could do so quickly, there's a line forming."

Her anger tipped, and words came flying out of her mouth. "I don't have any goddamned proof, okay? When the hell have I ever needed it? Now, if you'd just check the goddam-"

This time, it wasn't the wide-eyed woman in front of her who stopped her rant, but it was the person who placed a hand on her shoulder and said to Marilyn, "Excuse me, my name is Officer Blake and this here is Miss Bryan. We've been working on an investigation surrounding Tommy and Marissa Franklin. We were told that they were admitted here earlier today and we'd like to check on them."

With her eyes still wide, Marilyn nodded at Blake and quickly typed away at her computer. After a moment of silence, she, with her voice high and squeaky, told Blake, "Floor 4, room 16."

Blake nodded and said, "Thank you," before turning them both around and began to lead them towards one of the elevators.

Removing his hand from her shoulder, he said to her, "You should really try to keep a level head, especially in a hospital."

Sighing, Carrie told him, "I know. She just...Trust me, if you were there when she was talking to me, you'd understand why I blew up in her face."

Rolling his eyes, which went unnoticed by Carrie, who pressed the up arrow to the elevator, Blake said back to her, "I'm sure."

"Oh, yes," Carrie said while looking at him out of the corner of her eye, "you just have a tendency to only listen to the end of my conversations with others. If you were there for the whole thing, you'd realize that I have a justified reason for acting the way I do."

He nodded at her while stepping into the small compartment. "Again, I'm sure."

She followed his lead and entered the elevator. "Just you wait, you'll see."

Blake opened his mouth, but was cut off by the look on Carrie's face. She glared at him and said quietly, "Don't."

As the elevator doors closed, Blake could hardly contain the smile on his face.

After Carrie had her turn visiting with the kids and the other employees from the orphanage who were in the room, Blake had come in and asked Tommy and Marissa a few simple questions, not wanting to suffocate them with inquiries. Besides, he recognized two other officers, Stevenson and Richards, in the back of the room, furiously writing things down in their notebooks.

They hadn't been there 45 minutes before Carrie came up to him and said, "Is there anything else you needed here? Because, if not, I'm ready to leave whenever you are."

"I'm good, and I'm sure if there's something that needs to get done those two will get it," he told her while pointing to the officers in the back.

Carrie nodded. "Well, Dave and Kate are taking care of mostly everything and practically kicked me out, so..."

"Great," he said to her as they exited the room and made their way back to the elevator. From the elevator, into the lobby, out the doors, and into the car they were silent. Even the first few minutes of the ride there was nothing said, but neither of them really had anything to say.

It was Carrie who broke the endless silence. Hands clasped to her lap, she said, "I want to say thank you for everything you've done. I mean, really...I can't tell you how much this all means to me. And so, just, thank you." The words came out slightly shaky and slowly.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him grin widely. "You're welcome. And I should thank you, too, for everything you've done. Most people would have just handed all of the work to the police, but you didn't. That takes a lot of pressure off, you know?"

She nodded as he pulled the car up to the curb in front of the orphanage. Wait, what? They were already here? How exactly long did that silence last for? Wait...shoot. Now she looked like an idiot by not saying anything back to him and just sitting in the seat while he looked at her, waiting for something to be said. Well, say something!

With her heart beating loudly in her chest, she looked down at her hands and said to him once more, "Thanks, again." And then her hand was on the door, ready to push, but he stopped her.

"Carrie," he said, making her turn her head back and look at him. Taking in a well-hidden, nervous breath, he told her, "Let me take you out to dinner."

She froze, mouth slightly open, eyes big, and hand still on the door. Coming to her senses, she swallowed and started to nod a few times. "Yeah...yeah, okay. That sounds...great, yeah."

He flashed a crooked smile at her. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven."

It took her a moment to come back to her sense, but she soon nodded at him again, which was the only thing she seemed to do now-a-days. "Great. Um, thank you. Again."

"No problem," he answered her, completely calm and professional. As Carrie opened the door and got out, he said to her, "I'll see you tonight."

Turning around and, once again, nodding, she smiled at him once more before shutting the door. With her back fully turned and as Blake pulled away from the curb, she took in a few deep breaths, taking in...everything.

Walking towards the parking lot across the street, her breathing continued as her mind started to race. She was going out tonight. She was _asked_ to go out tonight. Her mother and sister would be thrilled.

Wait...she was going out with Blake, an _officer_, tonight. Like, a legit person from the police force. Her life definitely has changed, she realized. Instead of cursing and running from them, she was, on her own will, heading out with one tonight.

Yes, her mother and sister are really going to go crazy over this one.

* * *

_So...? ;)_


	15. Chapter 15

_So sorry...again. I'm so bad at this. Anyways...next chapter!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of Nolan's Dark Knight Universe._

* * *

_In, out. In, out. Breathe. In, out...there. That wasn't so bad, was it? _Carrie opened her eyes and looked back at herself in the mirror. _Who am I kidding, of course it was. _With an ugly, exasperated sigh, she turned around and traveled through her cluttered bedroom and into the living room, managing to only stumble twice.

It was really ridiculous how hard she had to look to find something to wear. First, her closet wasn't that bare, even though it actually is, according to her mother and sister. Second, it was only dinner; it wasn't like she was meeting the president. And third, it wasn't a big deal.

_ Sure it isn't. It's not like you haven't been on a date in two years, let alone talked to a guy., excluding your male co-workers. No big deal. Also, it's not like you have feelings for him or anything. _

Her jaw clenched, and she subconsciously told herself to shut the hell up.

But, the babbling in her head didn't stop. Thoughts and memories of her going out as a high school and college student flooded her brain. Her first date as a junior; 17 years old with the senior soccer captain. He'd taken her out to a nice dinner and a rare drive-in movie, where he unsuccessfully tried to go all the way with her. Rumors about the two of them flooded the halls the next day and she spent the rest of that week curled up in her bed, crying under the covers.

Fast forward five years and she was on her last true date. Jeremy Wrights, son of the CEO of Wrights Productions, took her to his father's banquet for his new Broadway musical. The dinner, filled with no other relatively young people, took four hours. By the time the show started she had five glasses of wine in her system and watched the play with a tilted sense of motion. Needless to say, after Jeremy dropped her off, he sped away, probably to beg for his father's forgiveness for the embarrassment the she had brought to him.

Carrie snorted at the memories, finally opening her eyes and sitting up. Those two dates probably topped her list of "Worst Dates," but there were definitely others that belonged with them .Of course, there were dates that she had that made her heart pound with excitement and stomach fill with butterflies, but nothing eventually something happened to end the possible fairytale.

Oh, what luck she had.

Before anything else could work it's way into her spinning mind, a knock on her door stopped her babbling cold. Quickly turning to the clock in her kitchen, she read _6:57_ on the hands. Early. Of course he'd be early.

Taking a breath, she made her way to the door, making sure she wouldn't trip and die before she answered him. And, somewhat miraculously, she didn't fall dead, and before she could change her mind, she pulled the door open.

Blake was standing a few steps from the door, hands behind his back and foot slightly tapping. He was dressed not in his uniform, but in black shoes, pants, shirt, and jacket. And as soon as he saw her, a small smile broke out as he took in her appearance.

Feeling a little self-conscious, she looked down and said, "Different, huh?"

She peeped out from her downcast eyes to meet. His smile got a little bit wider as he told her, "A good different."

Carrie let out a quiet, nervous laugh as she discretely picked at her nails. "Let me get my jacket," she told him as she quickly backed up and grabbed her brown leather coat from a chair. Though, as her sister would say, "It doesn't match the outfit," she could care less about how her deep blue top and black skirt complimented the jacket, or however the fashionistas said it.

Once it was zipped up tightly, she hobbled back over to the door, this time crossing over the threshold to join Blake . Locking the door behind her, she stood up straight and said to him, "Lead the way."

"Yes, ma'am." And while speaking, he put out his left elbow, a silent message asking her to let him take care of everything, to have her not try to take control. And though she hesitated for a second in the beginning, her hand slipped into his arm, letting him lead.

* * *

"You're joking."

"Nope."

"Yes you are."

"I swear to you I'm telling the truth. And I'm a cop, so that counts for something."

Giving him a small glare, Carrie shook her head again. "I still don't believe you."

Blake laughed and asked, "What's so hard to believe that I shot a golf ball out of the sky?"

"Because you're saying that you shot a golf ball out of the sky!" she told him, beginning to laugh, too.

"Well," he said as he began to cut a piece of steak, "believe me or not, I'm telling you the truth."

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink, Diet Pepsi. The whole night had been like that, arguing with one another, telling stories, mostly her doing the telling with him listening, and laughing. Not the drunk laughing where anything that some one says is funny, but the genuine type where things said will be remembered and reminisced on.

After swallowing a bite of her pasta, Carrie said, "So, I've practically told you my life story," he cocked an eyebrow at that, "or maybe I've told you a few stories from high school. The point is, the only thing you've told me about yourself is that you graduated from the police academy two years ago and that during your training you shot a golf ball out of the sky. I think that I deserve some more back story."

Blake leaned back in his seat, his hand folded on his lap. "There's really not that much to know."

"You know that translates into you're hiding something," she said to him.

He shook his head. "If I was a person who hid things, I never would have made it into the academy."

She breathed a sigh of frustration, which earned her a chuckle from him. "That may be true, but I think you're purposefully trying to not tell me something."

"Now why would I do that?" he asked innocently.

"How about you answer that for me."

"I think," he said while looking over to the right, "that's another story for another time."

Following his lead, Carrie looked over her shoulder to see their waiter coming towards them, a black bill in hand. The young man, Trey, looked to be in his mid-twenties; shaggy blond hair, grey eyes, and a good build. However, in terms of how the evening was going, Trey was the only disturbance. When he came to check up on them, which was more often than not, he'd spend a little too much time with her, which annoyed her, and, though he did well to hide it, frustrated Blake. He was polite towards the waiter, but she could see the annoyance in his eyes.

Once at the table, Trey set the bill down and asked, "Here's this for you guys. Is there anything else I can get you?" It wasn't hard to tell that he was mainly talking to her.

"No, thank you," Carrie told him. Blake nodded in agreement.

"Alright then. I'll take this whenever you're ready."

When Trey was out of range, Blake leaned forward and asked, "You ready?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

Wiping her face with her napkin, she was surprised to find that Blake had already put money in the billfold and was standing next to her, ready to be the gentleman that he'd been all night.

She set the napkin down on the table and while taking his hand to get up, she asked him, "Did you practice this chivalry thing at all before?"

He smiled at her. "Just a few times."

"Well you're not too shabby."

Leading her out of the restaurant and completely ignoring Trey's call of thanks, he said, "Good, because otherwise a lot of my training at the academy would have been for nothing."

"So they teach you the do's and don't's of how to treat a lady?"

"You'll never know unless you go into the force. The curriculum is for classified ears only."

As he opened the car door for her, which at the beginning of the night she was reluctant to take because it was actually his police car, she asked, "Didn't you tell me that you shot that golf ball for training?"

Before closing the door, he easily told her, "I was lying."

He didn't get the chance to see her roll her eyes, and also the slight tint of pink to adorn her cheeks.

* * *

As they approached 413, the apartment Carrie had called home for the last two years, she couldn't help but dread them reaching the door. The babbling had returned to her head and was tossing around thoughts of inviting him in, sending him away, kissing him, hugging him...things that she possibly wanted to do but was terrified to act upon.

But, eventually, they reached the door, and she already had the key in her hand, still not sure of what to do. She had to say something, though, and so she turned to the officer behind her and said, "I guess now would be the time to thank you."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "That is usually how something like this goes."

Squeezing the key, she looked up at him and told him, "Well then, thank you for taking me out and giving me the best time I've had in a very long time." Literally.

He gave her a real smile this time, saying, "You're welcome. And the same goes for you."

She looked down at the ground for what felt like the thousandth time, hating the awkward pause that seemed to haunt every get together or date with the opposite gender. Her brain couldn't – or wouldn't – come up with anything to say, and it seemed like Blake's wouldn't either.

But finally, after the few moments of silence that in reality weren't that bad, Carrie blurted out the first thing that came to mind that sounded somewhat appropriate.

"There's a, um, thing that the orphanage is doing. Next week, that is. I got a call this afternoon about it. It's to, uh, celebrate the finding and everything that's happened, as you know. And I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go. I mean, you did help much more than you really needed to and I thought that you might want to, come." _Jeez, did you say enough?_

Despite the fact that she felt like an idiot after what she just said, Blake found something to smile about in her drawn out request. "I'd love to go. It sounds fun."

Letting out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, Carrie smiled back at him and let some of the pressure off of the key that she was suffocating. "That's...great. Awesome. I'll call you, sometime next week. And thank you, too, for everything that you've done." _Smooth._

After finding something amusing, again, he said to her, "No problem." And after starting to back away, he called, "Goodnight, Carrie."

He was turned around when she said, "Night," quietly, but hopefully loud enough for him to hear.

And before he could turn back around to say something else to her, she quickly unlocked the door and slid into her apartment, leaning against the old piece of beige painted wood, closing it. It's not that she didn't want to talk to him again, she just didn't want to act like a rambling teenager in front of him. She was a 24 year old woman, after all. Most of her hormones had subsided into normal levels.

For now, though, she wouldn't worry what he thought of her. Now, she would, God willing, slip into a peaceful sleep, but not without the aide of a small glass of wine, first.

* * *

_Hope it didn't disappoint you guys! Also, I'd love feedback on what you'd like to see of the story. So, stuff like going back into the present for a chapter. Or something like that. Thanks!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Gosh, I'm a bad person. Sorry for the lateness. Also, this chapter is on the short side, but starts some tension._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

She should have known that a phone call was coming. Really, she should have expected it sooner, but nevertheless, it came bright and early that next Saturday morning. Not even lifting her head up from her pillow, she hit the enter button on her phone, pressed it to her ear, and muffled a, "Hello?"

"Carrie?" Of course, who else, besides her mother, would be calling her early in the morning? None other than her dear sister.

"Yes, Camille," Carrie said while lifting herself from the bed, "you did, in fact, call my number."

A "hmph" sounded from the other end, and Carrie smiled at her sister's annoyance. "Anyways," Camille continued, "Mom wanted to reschedule a dinner for all of us, because you ran off on the last one. How does Wednesday sound? 5:00?"

Walking into her kitchen, Carrie said, "Can't do. I have something for work."

"And that would be?"  
"A banquet, actually, so don't think I'm trying to ditch you guys."

Another sigh from the other line. "I'm not saying that you ditch us, but you could actually try and put in some effort to see your family."

"Well sorry I don't have a have a rich husband that can support me so that I can see mom and dad anytime I want. Unlike you, I actually have to work, so don't try and guilt trip me," Carrie snapped from her couch.

"I'm not trying to guilt you. I'm trying to make you realize that your family _should_ be more important than your job, especially when our mother is becoming worse with her memory loss. I think you might want to reconsider your priorities."

"And I think you might want to stop explaining things to me I already know. Mom's condition is very present in my mind, don't think that is hasn't been."

"Then why haven't you been spending time around her and acting like you actually enjoy it?" her voice began to strengthen.

Carrie breathed through her nose. "There's been a lot of things going on, Camille."

"That's no excuse for trying to avoid your family."

"I'm not avoiding them! God dammit, Camille, why can't you under-"

"Don't use that language with me."

"I'll use whatever the hell type of language I want when I'm talking to you. Maybe then you'll understand that I can't spend all my time with the family."

"But you also don't have to spend all your time at work."

"This is pointless. Tell mom to find another time, I'm sure another day of the week will work."

"I'll tell her to call you next week for the next dinner. Ryan and the girls and I will go over on Wednesday, as planned."

Carrie shook her head. "Fine, go ahead. It's not like I don't know that you guys go over there basically everyday. Does Ryan ever get tired of not being able to go to his own home to have dinner?"

"Goodbye, Carrie." She could tell that her comment had struck a nerve in her sister, and the phone went dead before she could say anything more.

Carrie lowered the phone from her ear and laid her head down on the arm of the couch, breathing through her nose and squeezing her eyes shut. Though arguments with her sister weren't uncommon, serious fights, like what had just happened, didn't occur very often. The last one between them had probably happened during her party phase, which was hard to recall in the first place.

During that part of her life, her whole relationship with her family was strained. She was constantly mooching money from them, then preceded to waste it all. Somehow, though, her parent's never kicked her out or seriously tried to sober her up. From what she's heard, her mom bit her tongue because her dad wanted her to realize that her life was spinning downwards.

Even though she hates to admit it, she still isn't completely clean. Though she's sobered up quite a bit, drinking is apart of her life, even after her car accident. Thankfully, nothing has interfered with her work. Yet.

Carrie opened her eyes, finally. Rising from the couch, she decided that was enough self-reflection for today. The last thing that she needed today was to start hating herself for the mistakes that she had made. The time to correct them either had already come, or would come in the future.

Now, though, the weight of the recent argument and the earliness of the morning took account into her mind. And never the one to waste a morning to sleep in, she made her way back into her room and fell onto the bed.

Sleep came easy that morning. She didn't know, though, that sleeping peacefully would not occur again for some time.

* * *

_Unfortunately, I'm getting some writer's block. So leave a review and tell me the direction you'd like to see this story go in!_


	17. Chapter 17

_So...I'm back? God, I suck. But at least I'm home again! Which means a lot more writing time. :) So hopefully I can start firing out some more chapters. And I hope this one makes up for my lateness._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

"Would you stop fidgeting? You're making me nervous."

"You're a cop, you're not supposed to get nervous."

"Well if you'd stop moving every second I wouldn't have to be."

Carrie let out a _hmph _and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in the seat while doing so. After a moment, she felt her dress go an inch higher on her thigh and went to push it back down.

"Carrie," Blake's voice stopped her.

She sighed and looked at him. "It's not that big of a deal, I just don't like wearing dresses. Just keep your eyes on the road."

"You're just wearing the thing for a few hours, it shouldn't be that hard to stay still."

"Oh, would you like to put on the dress and test it out for yourself?"

He took a quick glance over to her with skeptical eyes. "I'll pass."

"Then I'd suggest letting me fidget as much as I want tonight."

By now, the Blake had parked his police car in the lot across from the small building that Dave had rented out for their small banquet. He deemed it necessary to celebrate after all that had happened, and so this was the product of the minds of Brenda and Kate. Carrie reminded herself mentally to ask one of them why a casual dinner couldn't suffice, rather than a mini ball.

She didn't realize that Blake was staring at her from the driver seat, his eyes patient and pushing, waiting for her to talk.

Pursing her lips, she finally said, "Alright, fine, I'll behave."

He smirked at her. "Good. It's just a couple of hours, and I'm sure everyone else is excited for this."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered while getting out of the car. After closing the car door, she asked him, "Why are you telling me how to act, when I'm the one who invited you?"

Patiently standing at the back of the car, he responded, "Because I can tell that you probably would have done something stupid if I didn't."

"That's a little condescending, don't you think?" she asked while walking next to him.

"The truth isn't always complimenting, is it?"

"Most people tend to sugarcoat it, though."

"Then it's not the complete truth."

Looking at him, she said, "You take that seriously, don't you?"

He nodded, but kept his eyes ahead. "If I didn't, I wouldn't being doing what I'm doing today."

She snorted. "You're one of the few who still believe that."

This time, he glanced at her and asked, "Do you really believe that?"

"Oh, I know so. Why do you think all the things that happened years back were able to happen. All the crime in the streets, the trading, the _secrets. _The truth was lost in all of –

"And what about Batman?"

She paused, then said, "Batman, I give points to. He stood for truth, among other things, yet he could never give us all of it."

"Do you think he was wrong to not tell us?"

"I don't think he was wrong, I just think he overlooked the people of Gotham and their sense of judgment. I don't believe he would have been outlawed for what he did."

They arrived at the door of the building, music and voices being heard through the wall. Before opening the door, he told her, "We'll never know, though, will we?"

"I don't know, he does like to make things interesting, now doesn't he?"

He laughed and opened the door. "That's a way to look at things."

She shook her head and entered the building. She stopped, though, when he said, "Hey."

Turning around, she saw him enter the place, too. Looking at her, he told her, "Remember what I said."

She turned back around and headed towards the table with drinks, rolling her eyes. On the way, she caught eye of Brenda, who beckoned her over with eager hands.

"Carrie!" she exclaimed with happiness, "I'm so glad that you made it! You look great, how are you?"

Carrie smiled at the woman. "Thanks, and I'm good. The place looks," she paused quickly, thinking of the right word, "awesome."

Brenda lit up. "Thank you! Kate and I really wanted the place to light up, you know? And I think that – oh, Officer, I didn't know you were coming."

Blake, handing one of the two glasses of punch in his hands to her, smiled at the woman. "Thanks to the generosity of Miss Bryan I was able to attend. And may I say you did a marvelous job with the place."

Brenda was in shock, to say the least. Eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, she stared at him for a moment before coming to her senses and flashing a wide grin at him. "Thank you so much! And everyone who helped in the investigation is welcome. Oh! I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Brenda Hamilton." She stuck out her hand.

Shaking it, Blake responded, "John Blake."

"Well, Mr. Blake, thank you for what you did and what you do. But if you two will excuse me for right now, I see that my husband has already gotten into the food." Brenda began to walk towards where the food was beginning to appear, but she sent a quick look at Carrie, one telling her that she had much to explain.

Cheeks pink, Carrie's head dropped while she took a sip of her punch. When Brenda was out of range, she turned to Blake and quietly yelled at him, "What the hell was that?"

He looked at her questionably with a smirk on his face, "What, me being courteous?"

"No, you acting like the freaking president!"

"I really think you're overreacting, Carrie."

She took a deep, slow breath, trying to stop her temper from rising, which she could tell was beginning to rise. What would Brenda think? What would the others think after Brenda told them that she brought a _cop_ to this thing? They all knew that she hated cops, so what rumors would be created after they saw her being with one?

"Just," she paused to organize her anger and talk to him like a normal person would, "act, not so chivalrous or whatever the hell you called it before. Or don't talk. Just, be normal."

Still smiling, he responded, "Okay, just as long as you stay calm. Have some fun, you need some."

She rolled her eyes and chugged the rest of her punch, expecting a burning sensation but not getting one. Not wanting to put of the inevitable, she nudged Blake and nodded to where a group of people were talking.

"Might as well start to make the rounds, I know my boss has been looking at me for the past minute."

"Lead the way, then."

She bit her tongue at his almost-gentlemanly comment.

* * *

It had been a long night, but had gotten better as the minutes drug on. As requested by both of them, he acted 'normal' and she behaved nicely. Dinner went smoothly with small talk and jokes, and thankfully the two of them left before Brenda could force them on the dance floor, which was slowly becoming fuller.

So now, they were sitting in his car, driving back to her apartment, which was becoming more of a common occurrence. This ride had been quiet, with Blake asking a question every once and a while about one of the people he had just met.

But now, with the car parked outside of her apartment building, she didn't know what to say and he stayed quiet. Smoothing the bottom of her dress and wringing her hands, she mentally told herself to grow a pair and talk.

"Thank you, again, for coming tonight. And I'm sorry if I might have snapped at you," she said slowly and seemingly thoughtfully.

He chuckled, "And I'll say that you did a good job at behaving, even though it shouldn't have been that hard."

Shrugging, she said, "Well, you never know what's gonna set some one off, especially if that some one is me."

He laughed again, but this time didn't say anything. _Well, looks like I'm gonna have to do everything tonight, _she thought to herself when Blake stubbornly stayed silent.

Taking a breath, she dove in. "Would you maybe want to get a drink, sometime?"

He turned to her with a smile and a light in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. "Yeah, yeah, that sounds great."

With the heaviness in her heart now lifted, she smiled back and said, "Good."

It was almost like she was back in high school; the nervousness, the awkward glances, and, even though, she hated to admit it, the butterflies. Never being one to be good with relationships or attraction or whatever else you'd call it, it was hard to figure out what to do next. But, she decided that if she was already in the water, why not go even farther.

Still looking at him, she murmured, "You can kiss me, you know."

That was all he needed, because as soon as the words left her mouth he told her, "Good." All the while leaning towards her.

And as their lips touched for the first time, she couldn't help but smile.

Rumors were just rumors, right?

* * *

_Thoughts? ;)_


	18. Chapter 18

_So...yeah...I'm back? God, I hate myself because I keep you guys waiting. I'm trying, though, I really am! Keep your faith, please! It means a lot!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of Nolan's Dark Knight universe._

* * *

**One year and a half later**

"Carrie," some one nudged her arm. "Come on, Carrie, you gotta get up," another shake. She mumbled something incoherent and snuggled deeper into her pile of blankets and pillows. The man sighed, "If you don't get up, you're not gonna get any coffee, and we both know how you can get

when –

"Alright, alright, I'm up!" she tiredly yawned while stretching out underneath the covers. She slowly opened her eyes and saw John, already in uniform, at the side of the bed.

Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "What time is it?"

She felt the bed dip as he sat down, then brushing some of the hair out of her face, he answered, "6:10," she moaned and rolled over onto her back, desperately willing for time to stop.

"Is it Saturday yet?"

He laughed lightly at her. "Nope, only Tuesday. It'll come faster than you think, though."

"I sure hope so," the words tumbling out of her mouth as she sat up.

"I just got a call from Collins, we've got to help out with a case that Diamond's working on," John explained to her as she moved to sit next to him.

"So you won't be home?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, I'll call you later when I know."

Leaning her head on his shoulder, she quietly said, "When are you leaving?"

"A few minutes. I just need to grab a few things."

"Need help?"

He ran his hand up and down her side, "No, but coffee's almost ready if you want to pour two cups."

She lazily brought her fingertips up to her eyebrow. "You got it, chief."

Pushing both of them up, he told her, "Up and at it, soldier," and left to go into the closet.

Rubbing her eyes, Carrie stumbled into the kitchen blindly. It had become a sort of routine for her the past four months. Be woken up by John, who went to work much too early, drink her coffee, go to work, come home, wait for him to come home because being an officer required too much time, take a shower, go to sleep.

It had taken a lot of convincing, along with a lot of arguing, between the two of them for John to convince her to move in together. He'd put up a good fight, too. He lectured her on the financial benefits, commuting pluses, and relationship strengthening. Being the way that she had to be, she accused him for only wanting more time to their love life, which was scarce as it already was due to their schedules.

Eventually, though, she gave in to his puppy-dog eyes and pleading and agreed to move in with him, which, though she'd never admit it, was one of the best decisions she had made in a long time. The constant talking, the new-found intimacy, the support, and yes, the romantic benefits all made her life so much better. And though he'd never admit it to her, Carrie's "freak outs", as he called them, had decreased since they started living together.

The only aspect of her life that didn't improve was her relationship with her sister, and it was still due to the phone call over a year ago. To this day, Camille still had not met John. Carrie flat out refused all lunches that her sister invited them to, spent only Christmas day with her family, alone, so that she could go to John's family in the evening, and never answered her phone when Camille's name flashed on the screen.

_"Don't you think you're overreacting just the tiniest bit?" John had asked her._

_ Not looking up from her book, she responded, "Yep. But it's the only way to make a point with her."_

_ She heard him sigh from across the room. "That's not the civilized way to do things, Carrie. She's probably tried to apologize, you're just to stubborn to acknowledge it."_

_ "And I'll continue to ignore until she's really realized how ignorant she was being," she said while setting her book on her lap._

_ He looked at her with a wise expression, "How will you know when that happens if you're refusing to talk to her?"_

_ Carrie shrugged. "My mom will call me."_

_ He ran his hands through his hair. "I give up."_

_ Smiling sarcastically at him, she teased, "That's not a very officer-like quality, sir."_

_ Not bothering to remove his hands from his tilted back head on the couch, he said, "It is when I'm dealing with you."_

_ Opening her book back to where she had left off before, she told him, "Well, you've got to be with me for some reason, right?"_

"Carrie?"

John's voice brought her out from her daze, giving her just enough time to pull back the coffee pot before the steaming liquid was able to overflow.

Quickly shaking her head once, she turned to see he was right next to her and answered, "Hm?"

"Just checking to make sure you weren't dead on you're feet," she rolled her eyes. Grabbing the cup from her hands, he kissed her forehead and said, "I've got to go. I'll call you tonight."

She nodded as he made his way to the door, keys, coffee, and coat in hand. "See you tonight," she called out to him. Soon after the door slammed shut and she was left alone.

After pouring herself a cup of coffee, Carrie went back into the bedroom she'd slept in for too many nights – and days – to count. It was a queen, nothing special, with a beige comforter and sheets. It had actually been maroon when she'd first moved in, but after waking up countless times in the middle of the night without John next to her and having her heart stop for a moment, she decided to get a color more bright and neutral, rather than the dark red. Her explanation of the switch to him was because the sheets were getting old.

She'd never say anything to him, but was hard to think of him out on the streets, chasing down criminals, murderers, and pedophiles. Well, that's at least what she thought he did; he's never actually told her what he does. Still, on nights where she'd thought too much about the fact that there was a possibility that he might not come home the next day, she couldn't help but reach out and touch him, reassuring herself that he was there. And no matter how many times _he _has tried to calm her, the fact still remains that she was scared for him.

The sting of hot liquid brought her out of her trance. She looked down to see droplets of the coffee on her pants, and after muttering a curse, she went into their small bathroom to clean up and get ready. She never liked being in the apartment alone. Wasn't that the point of moving in with each other, to not live alone? So, she always tried to get out of the place when he wasn't around. The only time she couldn't avoid the solitude was when John was working late.

After brushing her hair into her regular ponytail and dressing in her jeans and blouse (new relaxed dress code, thanks to Kate), she quickly threw her now empty coffee mug into the sink. Slipping on a pair of flats and grabbing her jacket and keys, she exited apartment 523, made her way down the five flights of stairs, and out to her old Toyota.

This was her new routine, and she could honestly say she was content with it.

* * *

It was 8 o'clock when the phone finally rang. Shoving aside her Chinese takeout and muting the TV, she answered, "Hello?" without checking the ID.

"Carrie," the man – John – said with a mixture of relief and stress.

"Hey," she said calmly, "what's going on?"

She could almost see him rub his hand across his face, something that he always did when he was stressed. "A 16 year old kid was found in a basin," he took a breath, "He's from St. Swithins."

Leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch, she replied quietly, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said quickly. "It was bound to come up sometime, I just didn't expect it this soon."

"Do you need me to –

"No," he interrupted her, "Stay home, it'll be fine. I just called to tell you I'll be late."

A small smile made her way on to her lips. "You mean later than it already is?"

He laughed lightly. "I guess so."

"Be safe," she told him.

"Will do."

"I'll stay up," she said.

She could tell he was shaking his head. "You don't have to do that, Carrie."

"I know," she said truthfully, "but I will. It'll help you and me both."

Not arguing with her, he said tiredly, "Okay. I'll see you tonight."

"Bye." The call ended.

After the click of the phone, she sighed loudly and threw the phone on to the chair next to her. It _had _to be him to find the kid. And he _had _to be from the same home. This was just what he needed. And he'd handle it, of course he would, he's too proud to not handle it. But she'll have to see the hurt in his eyes at night, the silent type to make it even worse.

John never really spoke of his past that much. He gave her the rundown a few months into their relationship, but that was the extent of that conversation. When she tried to dig deeper, he got this far off look in his eyes that made her shut up immediately.

So, yes, he _had _to get the case that dealt with his past. Awesome. Perfect.

The Chinese next to her didn't seem so appealing anymore, and without a second thought she grabbed it and threw it into the trash. Reaching out for the remote, she unmuted the re-run of _The Big Bang Theory _that she was watching. Repositioning herself on the couch, she leaned her head back and listened to the humor of the show, but her head was still racing. She just hoped that he'd make it home soon so they could both get some peace of mind.

* * *

_So, yeah, I skipped ahead. I felt like that was the direction that the story needed to go. So let me know what you think and leave a review!_


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